Find A Way
by Canvas-PaintedWithDreams
Summary: Hermione decides to do something scandalous that leads to her isolation but it also leads to a strange new friendship that spreads a rumor like wildfire. In a whirlwind of rumors and other complications, can Draco and Hermione find a way to be together? Or will they let this remain a rumor? HG/DM. Ginny/Blaise sub-plot.
1. I

**Find A Way**

**Chapter I**

**_"There'll be a scandal, the tongues of the whole district will buzz with gossip, but it's better to go through a scandal, isn't it, than to destroy yourself for your whole life." - Anton Chekhov_**

* * *

"Did you hear…?" A voice mumbled quickly and quietly but despite their best efforts to remain discreet, she heard.

"I did. After everything they've been through…" Another replied in the same, judgmental tone.

"That whore." One last voice said, unafraid of saying it aloud in the crowd. She didn't see who they were as she walked away, slipping by them unnoticed.

Hermione had expected this – no – she knew with every fiber of her magical being that she was going to have to go through this and that people were going to look at her and say, _ugh, she did that. _However, it was done for _her_ own good. She didn't do it because she wanted to. Oh god no – she did it because she needed to.

She patted the skirt of her pink dress and walked towards a smiling Harry, who waved upon seeing her. Neville, Luna, Ginny, Dean and Lavender who all wore the same smile, the one of relief and happiness that they survived, surrounded him. Although they lost people they loved, in the end, they still survived and they were alive, here at the grand celebration party that the Order put together a week before school began.

Everyone was invited to the party. Even the people who fought for the wrong side but then later switched sides. Like Draco Malfoy and his mother. Although they hadn't showed up, yet. Hermione still wasn't Malfoy's number one fan, there was no way she could possibly forget all the god awful things he said to her in the past 7 years, the way he stood and watched as his aunt tortured her, but even Hermione understood a little why Malfoy did what he did. Even he suffered in the war. His father was now rotting in Azkaban and he was alone with his mother, who thanks to Harry wasn't sent to Azkaban.

The party was sort of a way for everyone to get together and try to move past the war and from the people they lost. Of course, it wouldn't be easy to forget about the lives that were taken away but at least they were all together. At least some of them were together.

"…'Mione, where's Ron at?" asked Harry after saying something to the group which she clearly blanked out on.

"What?" She asked, blinking several times.

"Earth to Hermione – where's Ron?" asked Ginny this time, looking at Hermione with wide eyes.

The news hadn't reached them yet, which didn't surprise her since everyone she was standing with right now was part of decorating and organizing the party. She knew that she was the best person to tell them but the words didn't reach her mouth. They were lost from her. How was it so easy to spread it out to a bunch of strangers but she couldn't tell her best friends?

But Hermione didn't have to say anything. "Oh didn't you hear, Granger here shagged Victor Krum in a field, on the grass, under the moonlight," said a voice that made her blood boil and she glared at the person whom this wretched, velvet voice belonged to. _Malfoy. _"Fucking romantic isn't it?"

Everyone except Harry stared at him. Harry however, studied Hermione, trying to see if it was true or not and just in a matter of seconds, Harry saw the guilt on Hermione's face. He knew it was true but he still didn't want to believe it.

"Piss off Malfoy," scowled Neville, stepping in front of Hermione, blocking her from glaring at Malfoy's smug face.

Malfoy just shrugged and began to walk away, his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He took a quick glance at Hermione and smirked before he became one with the crowd of people.

Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and asked, almost in disbelief, "Malfoy's lying right? He's a lying git who should be rotting in Azkaban with his good for nothing father. Right Hermione? You wouldn't do that to Ron, right?" She asked and asked but Hermione didn't answer. She didn't even look into Ginny's eyes because she didn't know what to say.

Her silence gave it away though, making Harry believe and confirming it to the rest of the gang.

"Oh Hermione, why?" Luna whispered, with a sympathetic look in her eyes. She was probably thinking of Ron now and how it would 'hurt' him. _Oh if only they knew._

Still, Hermione didn't say anything. Personally, she didn't think she needed to. She didn't need to explain to anyone why she did what she did. It was her business and everyone should have just learned to mind it.

Harry stepped in front of Ginny and took Hermione away from the party. They went outside to the cornfield where he watched his surroundings carefully before he began his interrogation.

"Why'd you do it Hermione?" Harry asked. She couldn't tell if he was angry or concerned. It was somewhat of both. He was angry because she was hurting Ron and concerned because this wasn't like her. Victor Krum, in a field when Ron had been there for the last seven years.

"Why couldn't I do it?" snapped Hermione at Harry. She didn't understand why everyone was so frustrated with her right now. _It's because they don't know about him. _

Harry was taken aback by this answer. "Because you're Hermione Granger and you're in love with Ron. You have been for the past five years!"

Appalled by the fact that everyone, especially Harry believed that Hermione Granger had to only be in love with Ron, she shook her head and began to shout, "I don't know what love is! Ron and I...we don't have love. All he does is complain about all the things that are wrong with me. About how I'm too bossy, how I'm selfish and don't care about his needs. I bet he didn't even tell you what he did to _fulfill_ his _needs." _

Hermione hadn't realized that she was crying when she said all this and that Harry, moments after she finally stopped speaking had embraced her tightly and she was hugging him back, clinging to him like her life depended on it but for now, it was just a matter of her breath. He holding her was helping her breath, helping her from feeling so worthless. Ron had made her feel worthless.

"Shh 'Mione, its okay. I've got you," whispered Harry into Hermione's ear.

It comforted her but only for a moment. She tried to think of only now, focusing on the little things – like how the moonlight made the swamp water glisten a little and how grass smelled fresh from being mowed earlier in the morning. She tried to keep herself steady.

They let go once her tears had dried up on her cheeks. "Ron's an arse. He doesn't know just how brilliant you are," said Harry softly, moving a strand of her hair out of her face. "But 'Mione, Victor Krum…I've seen the way Ron treats you. Like you're his mum, out to clean up after him and take care of him but Hermione, you know better than to shag with Victor Krum."

And all that comfort faded. He still judged her, like everyone else and if she were thinking rationally, she would know that it would be completely justified that everyone was judging her but now, all she could think about was how much she hated Ron. How much she hated that he fucked Fay Dunbar and that she saw him with her. The way they touched each other, the way he looked at her…she hated him with all her guts.

"You should probably get back to the party," she muttered, turning away.

"Won't you come with me?" He asked her, holding his hand out.

"I think I'd like to enjoy the breeze for a moment," she muttered again, still looking away. When she turned back around, Harry had already disappeared and she was glad that he was gone.

She dropped to the ground and lay down, staring at the stars. She stretched out her arms and sighed. She felt surprisingly hollow, like a part of her had disappeared but it was also sort of a good thing because she felt lighter, like a weight was taken off her shoulders.

_Must be from knowing you don't have take care of Ron like a toddler anymore. _She thought and smiled at it. She closed her eyes and sighed once more, letting her body blend in with the grass and freeing her mind.

* * *

She looked like some angel that had fallen down from the sky but giving that some thought, he had just compared her to Lucifer. The fallen angel. He smirked and bent down, staring at her.

Her arms were stretched out and her chest rose and fell as she breathed lightly. Her normally bushy hair was sleek tonight, in loose waves that were fanned out around her slightly bony face. There was an eyelash on her cheek and robotically, his hand reached out to dust it off but as his cold finger touched her warm cheek, she blushed and blinked herself awake.

At first, she seemed unaware of who was leaning over her so she smiled dreamily and instantaneously, reality caught up to her and she sat up, getting away from him.

"Malfoy," she grimaced.

Then Draco remembered as well what he was doing, where he was and the most important thing – who he was with. _Granger. _

"What are you doing here?" She asked suspiciously. "Why were you _touching _my face?"

Malfoy sat down on the grass and answered casually, "There was an eyelash on your cheek, thought I'd brush it off."

"And what right - " started Granger but Malfoy cut her off sharply.

"I wasn't going to hurt you if that's what you're afraid of. I'm not fucking stupid. Scarhead would make pools of my blood if I even dared," he told her and then he threw his head back, staring at the stars.

It was a rather beautiful night. The stars were scattered around without an order. He personally didn't believe in constellations. It was just something that people made up, something that didn't really exist but it was a big thing in his family. His mother once told him that the stars were actually pinholes that showed us a little part of heaven. When he was younger, it was one of the most magical things he believed in.

Draco looked back at Granger, who was gazing at him with this fierce look in her plain brown eyes, as if she thought she could figure him out just by staring at his face.

"So was it a night like this that Krum fucked your brains out?" He stated smugly and she gaped at him, like she couldn't believe that he would say such a thing.

"How dare you? You filthy – " She started but was cut off once more.

"You're the one with the filth," he told her, not looking her in the eye though.

"You're a downright son of a bitch who should be in Azkaban with your father. Where you belong," she finally managed to say but the words were so hastily said that it barely made sense if you weren't listening intently.

"I didn't know Little-Miss-Perfect could swear like that. Guess a lot changes after you lose your virginity eh Granger?" He added, constantly reminding her of what she had done. It was the most scandalous thing to have happened to the Golden Trio and he was going to revel in every moment of it.

Granger glared at him and bit her lip, as if to fight the words she wanted to say. He rather wanted her to say it, to argue with him but she didn't. Instead, she hugged herself and rubbed her arm to keep herself warm.

Draco stood up and took off his jacket, putting it around her shoulders and then walked away. His heavy steps crunched the grass and he focused solely on that sound, nothing else because if even for a moment he let himself think, he would eat himself up wondering why he gave Granger, of all people, his jacket.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is my very first Dramione fanfic and honestly, I don't even know where I'm heading with this but I hope you guys enjoy it. **

**A few things I'd like to mention in case you get lost: I decided for Fay to be the one to sleep with Ron because well, she wasn't really such an important character and I needed an unimportant character for Ron to sleep with. I'm not sure why. I just didn't want it to be Lavender because she's not going to play _such _a big role in this fic. **

**Also, this will be pretty OOC and I think (I have yet to decide) I might add some OC's to this. **

**I know that the ending seems a bit rushed, it is but I didn't want to focus on this part too much. **

**For now, I hope you guys stick around and enjoy the fic. Thank you. Review please? Let me know if I'm doing anything wrong or make a mistake or anything.**

**A/N UPDATE: So I have decided exactly what I want to do with this story. I know where I'm heading and I do hope you like it. Thank you. **


	2. II

******A/N: Oh well hello. I know I kind of put this off for some reason. I think it's cause no one really read the first chapter and I was a little disappointed or something of the sort. I don't know but I'm back again and I will try to update as frequently as possible.**

* * *

**Find A Way**

**Chapter II**

_**"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody." - Stephen Chbosky **_

* * *

_One month. _

It had been one month into school and well, Hermione hadn't felt so alone since the first few months of her first year in Hogwarts – before Ron and Harry took her in to be their friend.

She poked the irregularly shaped potato with her fork and sighed deeply. She was sitting at the edge of the Gryffindor table with Lena Sasson, the new girl who shared a room with her and Parvati to in place of Lavender. She was a year younger than Hermione, same age as Ginny. Lena was the only who actually talked to her and made sure she had actual contact with human kind. Other than that, Hermione was alone.

Giggles erupted from somewhere at the middle of the Gryffindor table and Hermione looked up, robotically, as she recognized those giggles. Ginny, Harry, Neville and Ron were laughing about something and Hermione wished more than anything in the world that she could go sit over there with them and laugh.

_No. You will not pity yourself. If they cared, you wouldn't be sitting here by yourself. _She thought, looking back down at her full plate.

But it wasn't entirely their fault either. They did try to talk to her – at least Harry and Neville did but she ignored them. She walked away when they tried to make small talk with her and chat on the way out of class. Harry even invited her to sit with him one night but she refused, said she had homework and ended up staying in bed, crying. She was pulling away from them because going back meant being around Ron – talking to him, listening to him babble incessantly, _doing _his homework for him and – _Stop. _

She inhaled sharply.

The memories got too close to flooding back. All those things he said that night, that stung her very core. She couldn't think about them here, not in front of all these people without bursting out into tears.

_Betrayal always hurts more when it comes from someone you love. _

Although more than betrayal, it hurt that they didn't see what she was going through, what she went through when she was with Ron. They knew what he did, after they found out about her and Viktor but still, it didn't make Ron any less guilty than her. It wasn't fair to her how they would choose to isolate her, punish her and leave him unscathed.

Ginny hadn't talked to her ever since the night at the party. She ignored her every time they saw each other in the hallway, left as soon quickly before Hermione got a chance to say something in class. Now Hermione didn't even bother. It was clear that Ginny didn't want anything to do with her and that was okay, she was starting to get used to being alone and it would only be a few more months. They would all graduate and she wouldn't have to be ignored. She wouldn't be around any of this.

"Uh – Hermione," whispered Lena, tapping the wooden table and looking up above Hermione's head.

Hermione turned around and blinked several times to be sure she wasn't hallucinating. Anger simmered in the pits of her stomach and clutched onto the metal fork tightly, pressing the edges into her palm, leaving an imprint.

"'Mione," said Ron. He stood calmly behind her, looking down into her eyes with loving eyes – a look she hadn't seen in his eyes after the first few weeks of being together.

She didn't know what to do or so but stared at the guy who had more freckles than brain cells. Her anger began to swell, heat up to her chest and he looked unmoved by the sparks in her eyes and her pursed lips, trying to keep control of the words that would have flood out of her mouth.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked, quietly.

Nearly everyone was staring by this time, shocked that Ron would talk to her after what she did. Who would have thought? But the only eyes she noticed was this cold grey pair that was almost as uninterested as she was in her potatoes and they looked down only after a few seconds.

Hermione stood up, wordlessly, keeping a straight face and they walked side by side to the doors. She honestly had no idea clue of what was going on and it was annoying her that she couldn't figure it out. She jumped through theories of what Ron was going to say but nothing seemed to make proper sense.

"So," Ron started and for a moment, she held lightly onto the possibility of him apologizing, asking her to come back and in that brief, very brief moment, she was ready to go back. "Now that you're putting out to everyone, I was hoping I could get some."

And with those words that came out of his mouth, a sound echoed in the Great Hall, and a red indentation blossomed on his cheek where her palm hit him.

"Miss Granger!" Was the first thing Hermione heard after the slap.

The hall was dead silent, no one dared to say anything. They all just gaped at the ex-lovers, completely taken aback by her action. No one saw it coming, no one thought she would ever do that to _him_.

"You little cu-" Ron was cut off by Professor McGonagall. She was followed by Ginny and Harry.

"Miss Granger, I am appalled by your behavior. Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention for a month, the both of you." Professor McGonagall explained, huffing. She pushed her glasses up her nose and looked at Ginny. "Miss Weasley, coming from Gryffindor and as Head Girl, I hope you keep your housemates in more control."

Ginny looked down, ashamed that her brother and ex-best friend lost points from her house, especially now that she was Head Girl. Hermione had always figured that Ginny would be Head Girl – she had the grades and the good behavior, she was a shoo in to be Head Girl. Everyone thought that Hermione would be since she was coming back to complete the year she missed out on but Professor McGonagall decided to give it to Ginny. Hermione assumed it was because some of the students might have thought it was favorism, although it wasn't since Hermione was far smarter and well behaved than Ginny.

The shocker, however, was that Blaise Zabini was Head Boy. Hermione definitely didn't see that one coming. She barely even noticed Blaise until the war.

"…And Miss Granger, for whatever reason you slapped Mr. Weasley – control yourself on school grounds. Do you understand me?" She heard Professor McGonagall say and she just nodded to it.

Ginny and Harry pulled Ron away back to where they were sitting, leaving Hermione alone again. She sighed, furious, enraged at Ronald's words and the way her _'friends' _took his side again without even hearing hers. But what did she expect? _The better. Grow up, Hermione. Ron was always Harry's first best friend. You're nothing but a second choice. _A voice in the back of her mind whispered viciously at her.

Hermione returned to where she was sitting, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the Great Hall, back to her room.

She just felt all this encompassing rage and it wasn't going anywhere soon. Her steps felt heavy with fury and there was a trickling sense of satisfaction travelling through her body. It hurt him – her slap, it hurt him and he was humiliated in front of all those people. She stood up to him front of all those people.

She laughed – she threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing and loud and full of contentment. She tried to control it, muffling it slightly with her hand and grabbed the first jacket she could find from her cupboard and she left the room.

Once the laughter stopped, Hermione sighed again. The satisfaction only lasted for a precious, uneven moment. The anger, the satisfaction, it started to fade slowly and she was back to feeling hollow and alone. Her rummaging, wild thoughts calmed down and found a focal point where it stuck – the thought of loneliness.

_Breathe. _She told herself – a reminder she had to give herself once in a while ever since after the war. She didn't know why she did that though. She held her breath quite a lot those days in the tent with Harry, when she fought in the castle, destroyed a horcrux, kissed Ron for the first time – she held her breath a lot and sometimes, it felt like she forgot how to breathe.

She paused, briefly, hesitantly aware of where she had walked to.

The stars were reflected on the water and for a moment, she thought if she dipped into the water, it would like she was in the sky, floating in the grand cosmos. There was no breeze, not even a slight wisp of air – no insect made a sound, no whistle through the tree – nothing. It was still, very still.

Hermione sat cross-legged in front of the lake, underneath the tree. She just stared at it, at the beauty of something so simple as water.

She always thought simplicity was beauty and that was her you know? She was simple. She didn't put too much makeup or care about what brand shoes she was wearing – everything was simple.

Boring, however, was the word Ron used. Hermione Granger was endlessly, inexplicably boring with all her facts and knowledge. There wasn't anything really all that special about her, he also stated that night – _Stop. _She snapped at herself but this time, the thoughts just kept going.

She didn't have the _right _curves or _easy to manage _hair. Even her eyes were dull, brown, muddy. Ron pointed out all the things that were wrong about her, the things that made her insecure and cry sometimes when she saw girls who were prettier, who got more attention. As a human being, she thought it was a natural to want attention, from someone and at this point, she was craving it, gasping for it like air.

"Recapturing your night with Krum, Granger?" A sharp voice said easily.

She turned around, startled, only to see Malfoy standing a feet away.

"No," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, tightening the jacket around her.

Malfoy smirked and he sat down, far closer than she ever thought he would be, and drew knee up.

"Kudos, by the way – that slap – ooh – it was, unexpectedly pleasurable to watch," he laughed, glancing at her.

Hermione blinked, surprised that Malfoy – of all people – was complimenting her.

A tight lipped smile spread on her face.

They were silent now. Like it had been before Malfoy came along. Why was Malfoy being so – well, it was hardly kind since he kept bringing up Viktor every time they saw each other but he wasn't being offensively rude. He didn't insult her blood status every fifteen seconds.

_Hmm. Maybe people really could change. _She glanced at Malfoy, who was looking at her body.

"What?" snapped Hermione, half insecure and half annoyed.

"Is that my jacket?" He asked and the annoyance vanished.

She looked down to see the jacket she had put on – the tailored fit, single breasted four button jacket hugged her, giving her warmth and comfort. It was custom-made. She knew that because the initials, 'D.M', were embroided inside the collar.

She brought it with her to Hogwarts hoping to return it back to him. It had lost its usefulness after the party that night when he gave it to her. She remembered feeling ever so dazed at the act – when he draped it over her shoulder, she went still, not sure of what to do or if to say thank you. He disappeared almost immediately after he gave it to her and she didn't see him later.

"Right…" She trailed off, swallowing. She looked away from the jacket, ready to remove it and return it but he was gone – again.

And she was alone – again.

* * *

**So I apologize for the lack of Dramione in this chapter but I assure you, the next chapter will definitely have more. Bear with me.  
Review? (:  
**


	3. III

**A/N: So I thought about it, really thought about it and I think I know where I'm going with this. See, it's kinda like this – as soon as I was done with chapter 2, I knew what I wanted to do with chapter 3 but unlike other stories I write, I don't have this one all planned out but I think I sort of do now.  
Anyway. Enjoy**

* * *

**Find A Way**

**Chapter III**

_**"Real intimacy is a sacred experience. It never exposes its secret trust and belonging to the voyeuristic eye of a neon culture. Real intimacy is of the soul, and the soul is reserved." - John O'Donohue**_

* * *

She trudged along the empty hallway to the Transfiguration classroom for detention. Professor McGonagall asked her to be there after all her classes. One month of detention – Hermione couldn't even imagine how dreadful they were going to be and to make it worse, Ron was going to be there as well, forcing her to sit in the same class as him without throwing a punch or two at him.

It didn't take long for her to get to the classroom and she barged in, mumbling away an apology only to find that Professor McGonagall wasn't there yet.

There were, however, two other people in the room. A girl, with hair darker than Hermione's was sitting on the table at the very back and a boy was standing in front of her, his face buried in her neck and his hands in her hair. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows; the muscles in his forearms were corded and firm.

"Ahem," coughed Hermione, glancing away.

The girl turned around – revealing herself to be none other than Astoria Greengrass, which could only mean….

"Granger," said Malfoy shortly.

Astoria slid off the table quickly and picked up her jumper from the floor. She fixed her hair and helped Malfoy with his tie. Hermione ignored the two, walking over to a far corner and sat down, dropping her bag to the floor.

Hermione didn't really know who Astoria was, except that she was related to Daphne Greengrass. It was strange seeing Malfoy and her together – Hermione thought he was still dating Pansy Parkinson but she knew what the girls called Malfoy – Slytherin Sex God. _Ugh. _She grunted and rolled her eyes at the name. Surprisingly, even Ginny talked about it with unbelievable interest.

Hermione on the hand was a bit more conserved – she wasn't a prude but the idea of _sex_, having it for the first time, the person you have it with, it just never seemed right but she figured that was how it was supposed to be. Ron had tried with her before but he'd never even gotten close to getting her out of her pants. She'd always stop him. She knew that was one of the reasons why he cheated on her.

"So Granger," started Astoria, walking over to the table where Hermione was sitting. "Drake's been telling me all about how you fucked Viktor Krum. What was it like?" She asked, leaning over the table, resting her chin on her hands. She revealed her cleavage as she did so from her way too tight jumper, which made Hermione uncomfortable.

Hermione gawked at her for a moment before deciding on what to say. Something clicked, transposed – or was it returned – in her and she felt a surge of confidence run through her veins, attached to every single blood cell.

"Oh well, you know," began Hermione, turning in her seat and crossing her legs over the other. "It was…" she paused, deliberately and closed her eyes. She thought about it – how his hands roamed on her body, touching the most intimate places that no eyes had ever seen besides her own; kisses trailing their bodies, her hands in his hair, the soft grass beneath them and the vast sky above them and as it happened, as she slipped into oblivion – a moan escaped her lips and she opened her eyes again.

Astoria was the one who was gawking now, gaping, eyes widened, surprised to think that Gryffindor's Golden Girl was capable of doing something like that with Viktor Krum.

But it was Malfoy's face that bemused Hermione the most. She glanced over and concealed the smile that was fighting it's way on her face. There was this look in his eyes, she couldn't tell what it was. It certainly wasn't a look he'd ever given her before. His lips were parted and he also looked red.

And then everyone was dragged back into reality.

Hermione sat back properly in her chair as Professor McGonagall entered the room. She halted her steps and stared at Astoria.

"Miss Greengrass? What are you doing here?"

Astoria stood up straight and shook her head, "I was just leaving, thought I left a book." She then quickly scurried away from the Professor and left the room.

"And where is Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, palpably annoyed that Ron was late.

Hermione shrugged when Professor McGonagall looked at her. She stared down at her book and began with the homework she had, hoping to finish them all before detention was over. She didn't have anything else to do anymore. Her social life ceased to exist. She lived in the library, joining Lena for meals and then heading to bed right afterwards. She thought many times of how if Ron and Harry hadn't taken her in, she would still be this lonely girl, living her life exactly like this. _Miserable, alone, unwanted. _She thought, gripping the edge of her page tightly.

"Sorry I'm late Professor. Gotta bit lost," a voice burst into the room and she didn't even bother to look up, recognizing it immediately.

It had been a voice that whispered sweet things into her ears, crept up on her, moaned into her neck – yelled at her, pointed out every tiny thing that was wrong with her, left her feeling like she was fucking impossible to love, to care about, left her feeling unimportant, worthless.

"What's he doing here?" shouted Ron, looking towards Malfoy.

Hermione glimpsed towards Malfoy, he was sitting at the very back where he was fooling around with Astoria – leaning his chair backwards and for a moment, she thought he would fall back but he returned to his desk with grace, bashing the feet down onto the hard floor with a thump.

"Don't think that's any of your fucking business, Weasel," he replied, his voice calm, cool – no, cold and vicious.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Weasley may not need to know why you're here but need I remind _you…" _she trailed off and this shut Malfoy up.

He looked down, shamed almost, and shook his head. He turned his head away and looked out the windows, pretending not to care about Ron or McGonagall.

McGonagall's statement made Hermione curious as to why Malfoy was in detention. Someone would have heard if he had caused trouble around school and despite her lack of social communication, she was well aware of the happenings in school. It was one of the perks of being a new wallflower. As far as she had heard, or anyone else, Malfoy was on his best behavior – even towards Hermione.

Professor McGonagall sat at her table and Ron found a place in the middle of the classroom.

No one spoke and Hermione preferred it that way. She concentrated on her homework, shoving away irritating thoughts of how Ron kept throwing tiny pieces of paper at her, which surprisingly the Professor didn't notice. Or maybe she'd just gotten tired of calling out on his shit too.

The room was silent enough that she could hear Malfoy scribbling violently, crumpling fresh parchment and settling it aside by his foot. He seemed dreadfully bothered by something.

Ron wasn't doing anything useful either. When he wasn't throwing papers into Hermione hair, he tried to do his homework, which was a waste of his time in his opinion and personally, he was having a hard time focusing for long enough to actually to do the work. It was too much effort on his part.

Then within the stark silence, a number of shouts cried out from the door.

"Minerva, Minerva –" Professor Slughorn entered, panting.

"What is it, Horace?" she asked without even looking up from her papers.

"I – we need to talk to you. The Minister of Magic wishes to have a word with you." Professor Slughorn informed, trying to catch his breath.

Professor McGonagall looked up this time and raised a thin brow. "And why are you delivering this message to me?"

Professor Slughorn eyed the students in the classroom and further entered, going up to Professor McGonagall and whispered something to her that Hermione couldn't quite catch.

The Professor tried to keep a straight face but for a fraction of a second – and Hermione caught this – her thin lined mouth parted, as if to gasp but held it in. She stood up from her seat and said, "You're all dismissed. We'll make up for the remaining hours the next day."

And she left without another word with a worried and still a little breathless Professor Slughorn following after.

Hermione sighed, almost disappointed that detention was over. Now she would have to go back to the library, same old same. She liked that she got a slight change of scenery by coming to the Transfiguration classroom out of the normal class time to pass the hours she spent without company. Now she would have to go back to her same old routine, which was disappointing.

Ron left quickly after the professors left, not waiting to say something predictably stupid. Obviously, everything Ron did to Hermione was purely for the attention he got out of it.

Now that Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort, people were looking past it and Hermione's scandalous affair and Ron's broken heart was the next best thing.

She grabbed her things and slid out of her chair, turning to bump into a rather agitated Malfoy. Her hip hit the edge of the table and she groaned at the sudden aching pain.

"Fucking watch where you're going, Granger," Malfoy snapped, pushing past her in a rush.

_What was his problem? _

She rolled her eyes and watched him leave her alone in the room. She bent down to grab her fallen things.

There was a crumpled piece of parchment that she didn't recognize to be hers. She opened it, with difficulty, trying her very best not to tear it apart.

Inside, in thin, black spidery inked letters, there was written:

_'I ne'er was struck before that hour_

_ With love so sudden and so sweet,_

_Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower_

_ And stole my heart away complete. _

_My face turned pale as deadly pale,_

_ My legs refused to walk away,_

_And when she looked, what could I ail? _

_ My life and all seemed to turn to clay.'_

Thoughtlessly, only one word came out of her mouth, "Wow."

She stood up, her eyes never leaving the words on the paper. Malfoy had already left. She wondered if this was his own piece of writing. It surprised her that Malfoy could have such a way with words – then again, he was always very colorful with his insults.

* * *

Hermione couldn't go to sleep nor could she eat properly.

She had bumped into Neville just before dinner. He was being so nice to her, walking with her all the way to Great Hall. He asked about how she was and lately no one at all had bothered to ask her that. She was filled with abundant joy but when she entered the Hall, he said goodbye and went to join Luna. Hermione, once again, became aware of how lonely she had become.

She ate a little and then left silently – no one noticed her absence. She was non-existent. She just wanted someone to notice her, to realize that yes, Hermione Granger was still here. Was it wrong to want that attention?

For the oddest of reasons, she went back to the lake again and for a reason she couldn't understand quite properly, she took Malfoy's jacket. On purpose.

Maybe it was because of how comfortable it was, of how it was a bit big for her and yet, fit so perfectly or perhaps, it was the warmth the jacket radiated. She even took his piece of poetry. It seemed like the perfect thing to read near the lake under a starlit night.

She sat down on the grass, resting her back against the rough bark of the tree, which she could barely feel because of the jacket. She took out the parchment from her pocket and read it out loud, "_I ne'er was struck before that hour_

_ With love so sudden and so sweet,_

_Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower_

_ And stole my heart away complete –_"

"Are you seriously talking to yourself?" A voice snorted from behind the tree and she looked up, crushing the paper in her hand immediately.

"Are you following me?" asked Hermione, her irritation hard in her voice.

Malfoy chucked and walked away from her. "There are others who enjoy the moonlit nights, Granger." He told her – he looked genuinely human when he chuckled and of course, it only lasted for a second as he went back to being a vile monster. "Or maybe you enjoy them more. You do love reliving your night with Krum, don't you?"

"How is it that someone as arrogant, absolutely intolerable and pharaonic as you could write such breathtaking pieces of poetry?" yelled Hermione, jumping to her feet.

The sudden movement made her dizzy – lack of energy and yelling wasn't a good combination. She tried to focus on her feet, looking down at them as she held her ground, trying not to tumble.

"What?" was all that Malfoy could say.

Hermione threw the crumpled paper in her hand, which he caught gracefully. "You dropped it on your way out of class today."

Once she regained her sight properly and could walk, she stepped towards him, biting the inside of her lip.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," said Hermione, thrusting her hands into her pockets, getting closer to him until she eventually stopped. She cocked her head to a side and looked at his face as his eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"There's a fuck lot you don't know about me, Granger –" He snapped, his jaw clenching tightly. "-And I didn't write this. John Clare did."

Her eyes widened and she instantly looked away, staring at the hand in which he held the parchment. He kept crumpling it, further damaging it. Her own fingers flinched inside the pocket, urging to grab it out of his hand but she controlled herself. She couldn't go around taking things from Malfoy's hand.

"He's a muggle author," she stated. This time she didn't look up into his eyes.

"So?"

"You hate muggles," she stated again.

Her urge grew stronger as his fist clenched around the parchment even tighter.

"Oh yeah? Do I now, Granger?" The fury in his voice trickled through her bloodstream as she heard it.

"Yes, you do. That's why you're always so cruel to me – with all your offensively colorful insults." She told him, finally looking up at him.

She tried not to let her anger get the best of her. Her vacillating emotions were a bit on overdrive – she couldn't always hold them in and sometimes, just sometimes, they would escape violently, in ways she never imagined they could.

"Now will you stop crushing the parchment," she asked her, a plea ringing in her voice.

She let out a breath and loosened her fists, letting them drop to her sides.

"Make me," he whispered.

He took a step closer and it was only then that she realized just how intimately, warmly and wrongly close they were.

She observed him, like really observed him like she never had before – his skin was marmoreal, eyes silver that glistened with lack of propriety but there was more behind that silver, something she had never taken the time to notice and suddenly, it had a hold over her. Like she couldn't look away – gravity ceased to exist and it was his eyes, the curiosity of knowing what the mysterious glint was that held her feet on the ground – that peculiar intensity that cluttered her thoughts and made every last synapse in her brain misfire.

And his lips – palely pink and it was like when you see a cloud as a child and imagine it to be velvety; they were just like that.

"We should go back to the castle," he whispered – the cool breathe travelled onto her nose and she stepped back automatically.

Hermione could only nod.

_What just happened there? _

She walked beside him, shoving her hands into her pocket and kept her thoughts steady. She couldn't contemplate on what had just happened. The way she looked at him – he must have noticed. He must have – _what would he think. What was he thinking? _

She didn't dare to look up at him to read his expression. She couldn't be caught doing that again. She couldn't. It was wrong.

Her unstable thoughts clouded her mind and she missed a few steps, tripping on a crack on the floor in the corridor and she held tightly onto stiff muscles and there was a hand on her hip.

She grunted and her hand dropped from the muscled arm onto her hip. She stepped back. The table had obviously left its mark on her in the form of an achingly bad bruise.

"What happened there?" Malfoy asked, looking at her hip.

"You," she ground out, still in pain. "You pushed me into the bloody table on your dramatic exit."

Malfoy pressed his lips together and got closer. He took out of his wand and murmured, "Lift up your shirt."

"What?"

"You're not fucking deaf, Granger. Lift. Up. Your. Shirt." He said again, pressing hard on each word.

When Hermione wouldn't do as he told, he pulled off her jacket and untucked the Oxford shirt out of her skirt, revealing a rather deep purple bruise on her pale skin.

Malfoy poked his wand into the bruise and drawled, "This is going to hurt."

_No, shit Sherlock. _She thought to herself and looked down at his knuckles as she turned white, the veins on his wrist popped up, out and she felt the pain grow upwards. She was stunned into silence and she swallowed hard as he muttered a spell.

Moments later, the pain disappeared and the bruise got paler.

He dropped her shirt and put his wand back. Stepping away, he raked his hair with his fingers, messing it up. "It'll be healed in a couple days."

Hermione wasn't sure what to do – just like when he had given her his jacket. She didn't know whether to say thank you or just walk away quietly.

He smirked, the corners of his lips playing coyly. "You're welcome, Granger," he said, grabbing the jacket from the ground.

She shivered when his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck as he draped the jacket around her – the unfamiliar touch took her senses away. She needed – _no. _

Her eyes fell on a shadow that elongated and her heart raced. She acted purely on impulse, ignoring the logics of her mind; she grabbed Malfoy's hand and dragged him into the dark where they were hidden.

She pressed her back against the wall, breathing ever so silently, holding Malfoy's hand, his body fractions away from her own. This was worse. This was closer, this was too much. She just kept breathing and he stared at her. His eyes never left her face. She couldn't gather her thoughts. If they were caught. If they were caught, together, like this – the implications would be…_I can't even. _

And as her thoughts flew in her mind, the worst happened.

"Drake?" The shadow became a voice.

"Zabini?" Malfoy looked away from Hermione and she sighed in relief.

Blaise Zabini was Malfoy's friend. He wouldn't assume anything and even if he did, he wouldn't say anything to anyone. No one would know.

She was still holding Malfoy's hands though and he hadn't moved away from her. Blaise's wand lit up both of them.

"Blaise?" Another voice came up from behind Blaise. "Hermione?" The red-head gasped, bug eyed.

_Oh, no. _"Ginny…" Hermione's voice trailed off and everything that she had thought to be bad before, just got far, far worse.

* * *

**So firstly, let me apologize for the long delay in this chapter. It's exam week and you must, you have to understand that I've been studying quite hard. I even made this chapter longer, as a way to compensate and my exams are over in FOUR days. I've already started with the next chapter and I've figured out exactly where I'm going with this. So please, please bear with me and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. **

**Eugh. The sexual tension between two people when one of them says 'make me'. I think you all might find that things get rather interesting from here on. **

** Thank you, as always and please review. **


	4. IV

**The quote this time shall be at the end of the chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

Ginny gripped the comforter beneath her and blinked several times, staring up at the dark oak ceiling. Dazed and tired from the lack of sleep, she tried to wrap her mind around last night, she tried not to think of it as she was, as she had all night. Yet the images, it had been burned into her mind, engraved – her mind would never allow her to forget it.

In the darkened hallway stood Hermione and Malfoy – _God, just thinking that in _that_ way - _ Hermione pressed against the wall, Malfoy pretty much leaning into her as she held his hands, her shirt untucked, wearing his jacket, his hair messed up – the possibilities? Not endless considering Hermione's recent demeanor. _But Malfoy? _

She could have gagged at the thought, of picturing it in her head, what they were doing before they were caught. Hermione was fraternizing with the enemy. Just because there wasn't a war doesn't mean Malfoy could be exonerated for all his cruel, vicious acts against Hermione. The way he'd call her mudblood, the way he'd let his aunt torture her in his house. It was fucking unbelievable that Hermione would be anywhere near Malfoy – the monster he was.

Hermione tried to explain herself but Ginny couldn't listen to her. She went back to her dorm, leaving Blaise to handle the situation. Ginny was absolutely furious, had she stayed there, she would have blasted at Hermione and probably hexed Malfoy.

She couldn't think of it anymore, about last night. It would get her all hot-headed and she needed to have a steady mind when she was around Harry and Ron. She couldn't tell them about it. Ron would be even more heartbroken and Harry – it would devastate both of them to know that their best friend – _former – _best friend might be hooking up with Draco Malfoy.

Ginny slipped out of bed, pushing her smooth ginger hair back, closing her eyes. A nice shower and some breakfast was going to calm her down. _Yes, shower. _

As she entered the bathroom, her eyes were still closed and she opened them only when she'd managed to tie her hair up in a bun. Standing in front of the wash basin was Blaise, wearing nothing but a towel that slung far too low around his hips. He had a very, very attractive body. His defined abs, built muscles – oh yes, Blaise Zabini was very attractive indeed.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were in here," apologized Ginny. Her eyes were still stuck on Blaise's body. She tried to alternate them from time to time in hope that he wouldn't notice but who was she fooling? He'd noticed the moment she walked in.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Weasley," Blaise purred, straightening his back and flexing his muscles, running his hands through his wet hair. _Holy fuck. Control Ginevra. _

She smiled, nodded and walked out, her back tense and her hands crunched into tight fists.

Ginny couldn't suppress her attraction towards Blaise for long. It was starting to get obvious and she knew that the feeling was very much mutual. Things between Harry and her were beginning to cripple, she didn't like it but she couldn't deny it. Harry was distracted, inattentive – for a while, she thought he needed space and she gave it to him but coming back to school, things were far worse. She couldn't always spend time with him either; her Head duties and studies kept getting in the way. Not that Harry minded this. He never complained or asked to spend more time. Nor did he use much of the little time they got together. It was like he didn't really care anymore.

Her eyebrows scrunched and she jumped back into bed, the sheet wrinkled beneath her curved frame and her fiery hair flowed around her on the pillow.

Then there was Blaise, whom she had been spending nearly all of her time with. They were together in Head duties and he helped her with her homework, now that Hermione wasn't there. Comprehensively charming and coy, he was driving her attention away from Harry as well but she knew it wasn't right. As long as she was with Harry, she had to keep her thoughts at bay. She loved Harry, they'd been together through too much. They had to work at their relationship not just after all that but because of it.

_But maybe everything they had been through together was the reason why they shouldn't be together. _

She couldn't think like that. Harry was the love of her life, always will be.

With a sigh, Ginny got off the bed, assuming that Blaise would have left by now, she re-entered the bathroom and readied herself for a brand new day at Hogwarts. Today had started with an awful amount of unneeded thoughts that were clustering her mind and she needed to have a clear head for the work she had in store for the day.

McGonagall had allowed her to skip through the missed sixth year and finish off her seventh year, along with her brother and Harry. It only seemed right. She didn't need to spend any more time here than she already had. That's why she was given the honorable title of Head Girl.

It came with its benefits; like the astounding private quarters she shared with Blaise.

Rich oak walls surrounded them in the common room and smooth terrazzo floors which she could skate on with her socks. The common room and nearly every inch of their quarters was superimposed with colors of their houses. There was an ash grey stone fireplace with an oak mantel facing the clear glass coffee table and the dark amber corduroy couch. She and Blaise spent long nights there with a mug of hot chocolate, talking and laughing continually about school and little quirks about each other. There was something about being around someone at three in the morning that made an impact, an impression and you couldn't look at them as you did when you were strangers in the hallway.

She left the bathroom fully dressed in her robes and her hair tied up in a neat ponytail. She gave herself one last check in the mirror and headed downstairs, where Blaise were waiting outside his room which was on the ground floor, like a dungeon while hers was on the top, like a high tower. The bathroom was connected with a staircase which led upstairs since Ginny, as a girl, would need it more than him.

"Miss Weasley," greeted Blaise, smiling at her.

She returned the smile and he walked her to the Great Hall, slowly, taking their time, making it last because she wouldn't see him for until the end of the day. She would spend it with Harry, trying to get him to put more effort in the relationship while her thoughts remained with Blaise.

As they reached the Hall, their smiles morphed into frowns and they looked at each other for a bit, unsure of what to do. It was strange today. _Well Ginevra, there is little that can be normal between two people who've pretty much seen each other half nude. _The pesky voice in her head told her and she sighed.

"I'll see you later then?"

"See you later." He replied and joined the Slytherins quietly.

_Damn it. _She palpably trotted down to where Harry and Ron were sitting. She passed by Hermione's sleek haired head, eyeing her shamefully and her mind was whisked away from Blaise to Hermione's infidelity last night. Hermione was buried in a book – who knew that underneath that goodie-goody persona was well…she couldn't even properly describe what or who Hermione had become.

* * *

"-And all I could say to him was that...Drake?" Astoria mumbled by his side.

Draco barely heard a word she said, distracted by Hermione Granger's dull brown hair, tied in a pony tail that was hanging over her shoulder, revealing her neck.

_Fucking Granger_, he cursed mentally and shot piercing looks her way, all which went unnoticed by her as she was buried in a book.

_ Last night, fuck, what even happened last night? _

The way she'd stared at his lips, let him touch her waist, held his hands, the way she'd looked at him with those fiery, burning dark caramel eyes. _Christ._ It was strange. _You mean wrong_, a voice in his head told him. But was it really?

She called him intolerable - clearly someone has never looked into a mirror and got to know herself. She was the intolerable one; thinking she was smarter than everyone else, acting so mighty and moral, all her fucking rules and always doing the right thing. She was always doing some pain in the ass thing in his opinion, walking around with her head held up high like she was better than every-fucking-one.

But the way she'd looked last night. He couldn't quite put words on his tongue for it. When she asked about the poem, when she stared into his eyes, his lips - he'd noticed a look in her eyes. _What the fuck was that?_ It made him feel -

"Fuck!" He yelled quite loudly, gaining looks from around the Slytherin table – not that they minded. Draco was always swearing, everywhere, for everything but there were some Gryffindor's that gave him the death stare. His eyes were still on Granger, secretly hoping that she would look over but no such luck, not even a slight flinch.

Astoria had stabbed his arm with a fork.

"Oh well finally," she murmured, putting her weapon down. "You've been staring at the Gryffindor table for ever since you got here. Now unless you're planning a murder, tell me what's wrong?" She began to look the same direction as him and she would have figured out who he was looking at if Blaise hadn't blocked her view.

"What's on your mind, Drake?" He asked, taking a bite of an apple.

"Nothing," Draco muttered.

He kept quiet, chuckling and answering when he needed to in the conversation with Blaise and Astoria. He didn't need them pestering him about what was wrong because there was nothing wrong. He was going to be cautious in his actions, making sure that nothing like last night was ever repeated again. It was luck that he was caught by Blaise and the Weaslette rather than anyone else. If it were anyone else…well. That's a whole different, far complicated situation that he wasn't even going to think about.

After the war, Blaise and Astoria were the only two that maintained contact with him over the summer in which the castle was being repaired. He broke things off with Pansy Parkinson for good, much to her dismay and Daphne Greengrass, Astoria's sister, ignored Draco in all ways that she could because of Pansy. Astoria had grown close to Blaise and Draco because they had found her hiding underneath Draco's bed and Blaise took her away to a safe place. They saved her life and now she was insistent on paying back her 'debt' even though they told her that it was alright. There was no debt to be paid but she was keen to do something worth what they had done for her.

Although it wasn't entirely right, Draco took advantage of that debt. Astoria and him had been sleeping around together since the summer and it hadn't stopped. It was fun but it was nothing more than a fling. She was more than happy to oblige. It was obvious that she had a crush on him but the feelings weren't mutual. She was beautiful and smart but he couldn't look at her like that. He looked at her the same way he'd look at Blaise, minus the part where he enjoyed fucking her.

Astoria was there for him. He knew she loved him and cared about him but he wanted more than that. He didn't _just_ want to be loved and worshipped. It was like she was too easy for him. The fact that he knew he had her and that she would be his in a snap of his fingers was what made it so difficult for him to love her back.

"Are you ditching class today or what?" Astoria nudged him, a confused and rather anxious look spreading across her face.

Draco shook his head and stood up, grabbing his bag from his foot.

"I'll meet you at lunch then." She smiled and pecked him on the cheek, joining one of her fellow Slytherin girlfriends and walked out, giggling about something.

Blaise and him walked to the doors, an awkward atmosphere growing deeper around them. He knew what it was about and thought about explaining himself but then that would imply that last meant actually meant something and it didn't. There was no point in going about things that weren't important.

But Draco knew that Blaise would bring it up eventually.

"Last night. You and Granger…?" He finally blurted out as they passed a skipping, young Hufflepuff.

Draco rolled his eyes at the thought of last night. "Gee Zabini, thought you'd know me by now. Granger and I? Really?" He swiped.

Blaise didn't say anything for a minute and walked silently to Ancient Runes. He wished he could get all the thoughts out of Blaise's head. It was preposterous for anyone to think that there could be anything going on between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

Hermione brushed her thin fingers down the pages, touching the words, trying to find the spell Malfoy had used last night to make sure that there would be no complications afterward. She was being paranoid but it was with good reason. People like Malfoy don't just help people like Hermione. It was unthinkable.

* * *

"Granger," said the devil himself shortly.

"Malfoy," she replied with a small nod.

"Alone again?" he sneered.

She slammed the book shut and was about to leave when he grabbed a chair, the legs screeching on the floor, and sat down. "Don't leave on my account."

She would have left but that would have satisfied him too much. "What are you even doing here?" She asked, annoyed.

He shrugged, cocking an eyebrow as he glanced at the book she was reading.

"The spell I used was perfectly alright. You haven't turned into some hideous creature have you now?" He replied lightly, frowning. He looked disappointed that she would think he would try to hurt her. "As I said before Granger, I'm not stupid. I wouldn't hurt Potter's Golden girl. I actually like living."

Hermione pressed her lips together, agitated more than she cared to admit by him.

"Are you implying that I don't?" She ground out.

His expression loosened. "No but I'm sure living with Weasel and his constant eating, bad hygiene and not to mention absolute stupidity would make one reconsider the idea of living," he said good-humoredly.

"Jumping out of the window," she muttered.

"What?"

"I considered," she paused, unsure of why she was even telling him this. "Jumping out of the window."

His jaw dropped, revealing a perfect set of straight white teeth and suddenly, he burst out into laughter – one that didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard but the sound was ringing and light and loud. She couldn't contain her own laughter and it adjoined his, harmonious and unrestricted.

"That bad?" chuckled Malfoy, leaning his chair back, arms across his chest.

Hermione licked her lips and with a breathy laugh, she nodded.

It had gone completely unnoticed by them that they had company, watching, observing them as they had laughed without care. A young Hufflepuff, who shouldn't have even been near the restricted section. She quickly ran away when Hermione caught her spying on them, her eyes bug eyed and jaw hanging.

"_'It may be misery not to sing at all,_

_ And to go silent through the brimming day; _

_ It may be misery never to be loved,_

_ But deeper griefs than these beset the way. _

_ To sing the perfect song,_

_ And by a half-tone lost the key,_

_ There the potent sorrow, there the grief,_

_ The pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy.'_" He recited softly, looking at her face with conviction and that same, mysterious look that he'd given her yesterday in detention when she moaned. "I can't remember the rest." He said but he wasn't saying it to her but an utter to himself.

Hermione leaned in on the table, placing her arms over each other, tucking an annoying strand of curly hair behind her ear.

"Do you ever feel like you're just sort of _there_? Like all your friends do things and get into relationships and have fun doing stupid things and instead of doing all that, you're just sort of this mildly entertaining thing that people take an interest in once in a while –" she breathed, looking down at the cover of the book. The light green leather with the title pressed into it. She was getting distracted when the words returned to her. "-But they wouldn't really care if it was gone, like you just sort of _exist_ but don't really mean anything?"

She'd spoken so much that she felt breathless. _Well. Where did that come from? _

Lately, it had only been like that. She was saying and doing all these things around Malfoy that, _god, _she would never do before. _What changed? _

_You did, Hermione._

Hermione looked back up at Malfoy and sat back straight in her chair. Malfoy was still staring at her, different look this time though. A glint in his eyes, similar to the one that was there when she looked at him last night at the lake. She ached to figure out what it was, like she ached to figure out what anything that toggled with her mind was.

"_'To have come near to the perfect love,_

_ Not the hot passion of untempered youth,_

_ But that which lies aside its vanity,_

_ And gives, for thy trusting worship, truth._

_ This, this indeed is to be accursed,_

_ For if we mortals love, or if we sing,_

_ We count our joys not by what we have,_

_ But by what kept us from that perfect thing.'_" His lips moved at the perfect pace, her heart throbbing against her chest as the words rang in her ears, repeating themselves in her mind, memorizing them for eternity for she could not forget those words. They were perfect – oh – so perfect coming out of his mouth and she knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear but it felt like what she needed to hear.

Hermione swallowed hard, blinking for a long hollow moment.

And she stood up, too fast, her dazed mind pleaded for her to stop and sit back down but she couldn't. She couldn't think. Just like last night, she was acting purely on impulse and impulse forced her to move, to leave.

Malfoy followed her action, standing up, his posture steady and stern.

She walked into him, unknowingly, her vision all blurry and unclear. He groaned in slight pain and then just stood, utterly and dismissively silent. Then it was just them, no one else. Even if there was anyone else, she couldn't feel it. The only thing that was real to her was his presence, his eyes, his lips. Not even her feet holding her to the ground – where they holding her? Floating, she felt as if she were floating.

A drudging voice in her mind cooed for her to do something else on impulse, something she couldn't do in the library or anywhere, not with Draco Malfoy. It was wrong, unethical, an act of treason _but _right, stronger than gravity to keep her down, nothing like she'd ever felt before and she feared that she would never be able to feel it from anyone but him.

And then her mind just stopped, all the thinking, all the rights and wrongs, it shut off like as if she'd snapped a switch and she could only feel. She could feel her eyelashes touch her face, the warmth of one of his hands on her hand and the other on her waist, his lips, velvet and cautious, curiously moving against hers. Breathless, speechless – _fuck. _She cursed and stood, finally feeling the ground and everything else. The way the air had shifted so dramatically around them.

Where was the shudder of revulsion that she normally felt whenever Malfoy got even close to her? Why was she doing this?

Her mind and body became aware of what was happening and she pushed, hard against his chest and her eyes opened, astonished by his action. Her fingers immediately landed on her slightly swollen, strangely red lips and she couldn't eye him. She turned on her heel and she saw him wipe his lips from the corner of her eye but she couldn't stop, she'd already began trampling forward, out and away from the library.

A smile played on her lips and she frowned at the involuntarily movement of her muscles. She cursed herself. That was wrong. _Stay away, _the voice yelled at her, furious that a part of her had liked it.

She'd never been kissed like that.

_No, _she yelled this time. It was no longer the voice speaking to her but her own conscience mind returned as if from a long vacation and it really was so. She had been making god-awful decisions lately, this being the most painfully embarrassing and dreadful one of them all.

_No. It meant nothing. Absolutely, fucking nothing. _

* * *

**_"I was going to kiss him, and I was going to regret it. But at that moment, I couldn't bring myself to care." - Michelle Hodkin _**

**Please do review, thank you for reading. **


	5. V

"_**No one knows for certain how much impact they have on the lives of other people. Oftentimes, we have no clue. Yet we push it just the same." – Jay Asher**_

* * *

Hermione tossed her book aside; it landed perfectly on her trunk, where a pile of books began to emerge.

_Three days. _

She spent three days cautiously avoiding him. It felt like the right thing to do. _Not. _She thought if she saw him again, if she even looked at him just a little, she would do something incredibly stupid like the she did three days ago. She was in the long, draining process of figuring out why she had kissed him back. She had actually kissed him back; she _let _him kiss her. She didn't do anything to protest against it at all. It was like she wanted to kiss him.

She stopped going to the Restricted Section of the library, finding a nice, warm and safely secluded corner of the library to do her homework. There were no more visits to the lake at night and she had stuffed his jacket so far under her bed that she thought it would have found a portal to Narnia by now.

The only time she had to see Malfoy was during detention, which a pitiful Professor McGonagall had cut short now. Even when she saw him in detention, it didn't matter. Universes separated them when they were in there, non-existent to each other.

Flicking the bangs off her forehead, she turned around to face a built young man, whose bright, emerald eyes were penetrating her very soul.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her hands falling to her sides, patting them.

"I uh –" Harry lowered his voice, glancing stealthily around the empty room. Parvati and Lena were outside in the courtyard. They got tired of Hermione's brooding, reading self and left to get some fresh air. Lena kindly urged her to join them but she declined, knowing that if she left her room, the chances of bumping into _him _would be greater. "I need to ask you something."

She bit the inside of her lower lip and squared her shoulders.

Harry stepped forward, hesitant, unsure. "I uh – heard a couple Hufflepuffs um, _gossiping _about – about you and uh, Malfoy…" He stuttered, as if by saying this he was making the gravest mistake of his life. "In the library, talking and laughing and…snogging."

Frozen, Hermione felt the muscles in her back bunch up and her mind creating the perfect, logical explanation for what had happened. There, however, wasn't a truthful logical explanation because there was no logic in what she had done. She did it because she wanted to. She was still wary on _why _she wanted to but she did want to and she did it.

She was about to explain herself though, not wanting to ruin the possible friendship she still had with Harry but he wasn't done.

"And I thought they were just lying you know?" He continued, nervously pushing his glass back. "Then I mentioned it to Ginny and she just – well I don't even know what happened with her, she spoke so quickly that I barely caught what she said but she mentioned you and Malfoy, a few nights ago and you were – it just didn't look appropriate." He guiltily swallowed.

Harry looked palely uncomfortable, which he never was in front of Hermione.

"What are you saying, Harry?" She said gently but she knew what he was implying now. She needed to hear him say it.

"People are saying that you and him are, well-" He was muttering now.

"Well what?" She demanded, feigning ignorance.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Dating. That you two are dating." Harry finally spat out what he had come to say.

A thick, awkward silence permeated the confines of the room, pushing against the windows and settling like dust on the wallpaper.

Hermione couldn't believe that Harry would even feel the need to come ask her. Yes; spend months with Ronald and then come to tell her about the rumors that were spreading around. They had known each other for seven years and they were best friends. She was with him every day of the horcrux hunt and she knew his demons just like he knew hers. He, of all people, should have known better.

"Well?" She said, cocking her head to the side.

Harry glanced away.

"Some are even saying you both are – " He paused, pursing his lips and she could tell that he was gritting his teeth. "That you both are shagging. Enemies with benefits, they're calling it."

As the words kept pouring out of his mouth, Hermione puffed a breath of laughter, though it sounded more like a scoff. It was ridiculous that he was standing in front of her and saying all these things, implying, _accusing_ her of it all being true. She shook her head; her hair swinging from side to side and she gripped the hem of her skirt tightly.

"You don't actually believe that?" She asked, incredulous.

"'Mione, you're not the same and after the whole Krum incident…" he began to trail off uncomfortably. He crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes met her, dark and disgraced. "I wouldn't be all that surprised if it were true."

"One incident does not define me," she said gruffly, pressing her lips together.

"But it isn't just one incident, Hermione." His voice was loud, hoarse. His jaw jutted out and he blinked a few times before elaborating. "The slap, the hallway, the kiss. Hermione, you're not who you were and its not like Malfoy or you have denied any of it. The Hufflepuffs were talking about overhearing him talking about you with Zabini." His eyes rolled at the name 'Zabini' but she wasn't interested in that at all.

She studied him for a long, shadowy fraction of a minute, his face etched with disbelief, disappointment and she felt the all-encompassing rage swell up in her, like a balloon and it was growing too big; it was going to pop.

And then she gave up.

Hermione sighed, furrowing her brows and left him in the room, alone. She couldn't deal with him right now. She didn't want to. He believed the rumors, meaningless words of useless first year Hufflepuffs.

_It's not like Malfoy or you have denied any of it. _Malfoy knew. He knew what they were saying and he was doing nothing to stop it. He was letting them talk about it. Why? She didn't know but she was for sure as hell going to find out.

She pushed aside a few Gryffindors as she raced down the stairs, her pulse increasing by the second and her thoughts pounding wrathfully against her temples. She wasn't going to let a rumor ruin her, especially one that had no truth to it at all. _Dating. Enemies with benefits. _People needed to find things to do with their dull, vapid lives.

Malfoy was in the Viaduct Courtyard, his hands toying in Astoria's hair as she giggled like a love-sick school girl, sitting next to Blaise Zabini who was listening intently to whatever foul joke Malfoy was saying.

"Malfoy," she thundered.

Hermione caught her breath; her hair was out of place, strands flying all over; beads of sweat rolled down the sides of her face to her neck and she was pale, panting as she stood in front of him. Her teeth clenched and she glared with staggering fury and resentment.

"We need to talk," she told him, shooting a look at Astoria and Blaise.

Understandingly, they walked away from Malfoy. They knew that whatever that was about to happen was not going to be good and it was best to get out of the way. Hermione had caught the attention of nearly every irksome student in the courtyard, whispering, stirring up new rumors and staring, waiting for something scarcely scandalous to happen.

"What do you want?" asked Malfoy, looking irritatingly bored.

"Who did you tell?" She demanded, her glare never lowering.

He rolled his shoulders back and smirked at her. He seemed pretty satisfied with himself.

Hermione poked her finger into his chest. "_Why _are you not denying it? _Nothing _is going on between us," she hissed, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear. She kept her voice low for obvious reasons but it didn't matter, people wouldn't stop staring.

"You obviously haven't seen Weasel's face yet," he drawled. "If I knew this was how to piss him off, I would have done it a long time ago." His face viciously cool, expressing no signs of embarrassment over what people were saying but there was something else on his face, something she couldn't focus on because of her blinding anger.

Her palm lifted up to do the inevitable but he caught it swiftly, just like in those dumb movies but he had the perfect reflexes to have caught her hand. She tried again with her other hand, this time attempting a punch but he saw it coming. Her lips quivered and in the middle of a long unprocessed thought, he pulled her against him.

And then he kissed her, again.

His lips ground against her own, unlike three ago when he was so gentle, soft. This one was ferociously wild and she tried to push away, knowing the gaping eyes that were solely planted on them as they kissed fiercely without anything other than revulsion in the middle of the courtyard.

Eventually, her fist pound against his lower jaw and she was freed from his grasp. She nearly tripped backward and all she could think of was how the whispers had suddenly grown louder and were now just horror and bemused filled chatter.

"You foul, loathsome – " She dawned, disgusted by herself and him but mostly herself.

"Do go on, Granger." He remarked, completely unmoved by what had just occurred. He stepped closer and the tone in his voice stunned her. "I'm not going to deny it because well, as you can see, _this _is rather entertaining. I like the baffled and bothered Hermione Granger. Now I'll see you later, darling." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, keeping her forcibly still.

Then he walked off, joining Astoria and Blaise, who were just as taken back by what had transpired.

Now there wouldn't be a person in school that wouldn't believe the rumors. Everything she was trying so hard to get people to forget was back. Everyone was going think that she was a –

"Tramp," a Slytherin hissed, walking past her, smiling cruelly and Hermione took a shallow breath.

_The whole school now thinks you're a tramp, Hermione. Well-fucking-done._

* * *

_11:39. _

She found herself walking to the lake. Unable to stand her own bedroom, she had to get out, properly breathe. Parvati and Lena stopped talking to her. Lena wasn't talking mainly because of Parvati though, which she tried to see as a good justification but she knew it wasn't. They shouldn't have stopped talking to her. They no longer cared what her side of the story was anymore. It honestly didn't matter.

She was holding her breath, containing the tears within her because it was pointless to cry over this. _Harry, Ginny, Parvati, and Neville…_They should have known better than to fall into all these rumors and lies. They should have known her better and they didn't. They didn't know her at all. _Did they ever? Or have I really changed? _

Hermione stopped walking, her eyes falling upon the lean figure that was sitting under the tree. She expected, wanted, him to be here tonight. She secretly wanted to see him. Not for reasons that her fellow students thought but so she could beat the living daylights out of him and hex him. He was the one that was mostly responsible for ruining her life now.

"Are you sure you should be out here, Granger?" he asked, noticing her a few feet away from him.

Malfoy stretched out his legs and straightened his back, sitting properly now.

"They all think I'm with you anyway, thanks to you," she spat coldly, walking up to him.

She stood above him and for a moment, felt powerful, stronger – looking down at him but it was only a passing feeling. Looking down at him…he looked different. He always did when they were alone. She wondered why.

"You're welcome, Granger," he said snidely.

Hermione looked away and moved the tip of her shoe along the grass, drawing a line back and forth.

"Do any of your friends believe it?" She blurted out after a moment, glancing up briefly.

He regarded her curiously. Rolling his eyes, he stretched his arms, flexing his muscles, which were clearly visible through the thin white material of his shirt.

"I explained to them that it meant nothing, that it was just a way to annoy you," he replied, nonplussed. "Maybe if you had any friends of your own, you'd know."

Hermione stayed silent now.

She thought about the rumors, the unbelievable rumors that four months ago would have been ridiculous and now, there wasn't a damn person in school that wasn't talking about it. She could not even begin to understand why people can think of it is true.

"Hard for you, this all, isn't it?" He asked.

She slowly sat herself down and drawled, "It's just unbelievable. You and me – you're, well, hateful, mean and arrogant. You're –"

"You're not very likeable either, Granger. There was a reason Weasel could no longer put up with you? There was a reason why he cheated on you, yeah?" He interrupted angrily, bringing up the one person that boiled her blood.

Hermione refused to give him the satisfaction – and she smiled slightly.

"We're pretty fucking romantic aren't we?"

He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes.

"Couple of the year I say," He replied, staring out at the night sky.

She blinked for a moment at his words, unthinking, and her smile grew across her fair skin.

They were silent again – the wind blew eastwards, bristling the dying leaves of the tree they sat under. A few of them fell, slowly, at their feet. Autumn was coming to a close, winter, the dying season, would soon set in. The grass would die, being covered by the soft, crisp, white snow that would drift lazily through the air in moments of the day. The jacket will gain more use then.

Her chin raised a fraction, eyebrows knitted together and she spat out the question that had been troubling her for three days – "Why did you kiss me?"

Surprise flitted across his face.

She set her jaw and continued to speak, "I mean, in the library. Why did you kiss me then? If you're doing this to annoy me, you want an audience around because that's the only way anyone will ever know. I know there were some Hufflepuffs that passed by that day but you didn't know that because I didn't know that either –" she stopped for a short breath. "So why did you kiss me and 'to annoy you' isn't a good enough reason."

Malfoy contemplated for a moment, his lips pressed together.

_What if there was no answer? What if he kissed me simply because he just really wanted to? _No. She couldn't allow herself to believe that.

The air around them around us grew heavy with tension; the lake, the grass, it fell smaller than it should have and when he replied, that pressure pressing against them collapsed, melted away.

"I'm sorry," He murmured.

Then he stood up abruptly and she stood up with him.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Why am I apologizing?" He repeated.

"Yes," She said loudly. "_Why _are you apologizing?_ You're _Draco Malfoy, you don't apologize, to anyone, not to me – so why are you apologizing?"

He stepped back and he looked surprised by her, by the tone of her voice, by her posture, by the way her fingers were lacing each other to form a fist.

"Why do you have to question everything? I just apologized, _to you_. Just let it go, okay?" He spoke too quickly now, fumbling with his words.

She was quiet, her tongue thick and clumsy in her mouth.

"What?" He snapped.

"Why can't you just answer the question I ask you? Is it honestly, really _that _hard?" She asked, clearing her throat.

He didn't respond immediately. He was thinking carefully about what was going to come out of his mouth because well, what he said now would begin to define their relationship, _or _not. There were two ways this could go, she theorized – either he was going to give her an answer that would change and begin to define their – _well, this is hardly a relationship _– whatever it is that was different between them, it would give all of it meaning, reason, logic or it would leave them as they were.

"Why do you there has to be a reason for me to kiss you? If you don't recall, you kept looking at my lips, which if you didn't know is the universal sign that _you_ want to kiss me. I'm a guy, _Granger, _if there's a girl who wants to kiss me, I'm going to kiss her back even if she is a _filthy mudblood_," he spat out vicious and poisonous words.

_Of course. _She was stupid to think there could be a reason, that there was more. _Delusional. _

"So that's your world class reason then? Your hormones exonerate you from being wrong and guilty?" She snapped at him, taking a short step towards him. "You kissed me, made me think, for even a second, that you were something different."

"Well you thought wrong," he said, voice quiet and almost ashamed.

She took in a deep breath, licking her lower lip and tucking a hair behind her ear. "Then why'd you say sorry?"

He swallowed hard; she could see it go down his throat. _You look at him too much. _

Then he placed his thumb on her cheek, stroking it and staring into her eyes. The tension grew, the viscosity of the air pressed down onto them, pushing them closer. "Because you thought it meant something, because you thought, _for even a second, _that I would actually want to kiss _you._"

And she pushed away from him and walked back to her dorm room. Her whole body felt dejected, drained.

_Draco Malfoy – you have no idea…the effect you have on me. _


	6. VI

**Okay. I thought I had chapter 6 put up a really long time but it turns out that I didn't. I apologize sincerely for the long wait. I have been tiresomely busy and I need certain conditions to write. Sometimes, it doesn't come as easy and I love this story to bits and the plot that I've set out for it and I feel the need to do justice to it. **

**Please review after reading. Much love. **

"_**After a breakup, there's a momentary relief that you're free again. But that's quickly eclipsed by all the good memories you had together and the realization that there won't be anymore of them." – Daria Snadowsky**_

* * *

She lay in her bed, her legs tangled together and the cover above her in a state of utter disarray. She sighed into her pillow; thoughts of Malfoy had still not evaded her. She tried desperately to keep her grasp upon the dream world, avoiding reality as much as possible but her roommates sensed her awakening.

Lena spoke to her, much to her dismay. She hardly wanted to be interrogated before she was fully awake and in a mood to deal with human kind.

"Where were you last night, Hermione?" She asked, her voice clear and soft. She was fully dressed and prepped for the day, standing at the end of Hermione's bed. "I woke up in the middle of the night and noticed your bed was empty."

Parvati answered before Hermione got the chance to.

"Oh, dear Lena, why are you even asking? You're fully aware of Hermione's recent perfidy. Even McGonagall would know where she was last night and with _whom._" The insensitivity her voice was new to Hermione but that didn't stop her from responding with acerbity.

Hermione slid out of bed and walked over to Parvati, her face etched with irritation. "You. Don't. Know. Me. Parvati." She began, speaking between her teeth. "You're overly interested in everything about everyone – shows you have no life of your own and you've got a completely daft personality." She stopped to enjoy the look on Parvati's face – taken back by the way she could retaliate when she wanted to. "So why don't _you _find something better to do with your already wasted life and stop interfering with mine." She jeered and before anyone could say anything else, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom.

The hot water felt nice, good against her barely awake skin as millions of pellets shot from the shower head, messing into her brunette curls and then sliding all over her body. She planted a plentiful dollop of her favorite peach and passion fruit shampoo and blissfully began the routine pattern of rinse, lather and repeat. Her hair had calmed itself down. It was no longer in bushy curls but soft, light curls that bounced around in a less annoying manner.

She waited in the shower until she was certain that everyone left. It was Hogsmeade Weekend and she knew that Lena and Parvati had made plans to go. She didn't want to deal with them again today. It was mostly Parvati that she wanted to avoid but she didn't think Lena would want to talk to her either after all the horrible things she said to Parvati.

Walking up to her trunk, she took out a cozy, light grey sweater dress, pairing it with black tights. She let her hair dry, running her hands through them with a moisturizer and she let it fall into place. Although she hated Malfoy, she liked his jacket – she slipped it on, grabbed her recent reading and walked down to the Viaduct Courtyard, which would be empty.

There wouldn't be a single student in school today and even if there were, they would be nowhere near the courtyards. She was learning the little tricks of Hogwarts slowly through her loneliness. It gave her time to focus on things that weren't Harry or Ron. Things were awfully quiet without Harry and Ron around her. It was like her small, confined world was suddenly opened up and she saw other things, like how the small cracks in the wall fixed themselves overnight by the magic around the school and the way the school became ever so deserted when there weren't any students around.

It was nice, sometimes, being alone.

"Just fucking great," she mumbled.

She halted and hid behind a pillar, watching the tall light haired girl argue with the impassive Malfoy. He had his arms draped on the backrest of the bench, yawning as the girl hissed at him. She recognized the girl to be Daphne Greengrass, Astoria's older sister. _Maybe she found out he's fucking her sister too. _

Robotically, Hermione stepped forward, attempting to listen in on the conversation but she lost her balance and her book fell to the ground, making an annoying _thump _sound.

She flushed, utterly embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping on Malfoy.

Daphne glared at her, muttered something at Malfoy and fumed off to the gates, probably on her way to Hogsmeade.

"Spying isn't very becoming of you, Granger," Malfoy swiped at her.

"I thought I wasn't very becoming in general," she told him. "After all, I am a _filthy mudblood_." She repeated the words he had said to her last night. She picked up her book and strode towards him. She dropped her chin by a fraction and she stopped in front of him, holding her book down by her side.

Malfoy's eyes flickered when she said the word 'mudblood' as if he couldn't stand hearing it, which didn't seem at all like him.

"Since I was spying anyway, why was the older Greengrass yelling at you? She seems to like you a lot less than the other one," she derided, arching her brow and putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket.

Malfoy smirked, looking at her, noticing that she still wore his jacket.

"She 'warned' me to stay away from her sister. Said something about how she didn't want _your _mudblood germs being transmitted to Astoria," he drawled.

She let out a harsh bark of laughter and sat herself down beside him, keeping a slight distance so that their bodies didn't touch. Malfoy did the same, sliding over a bit to leave an appropriate distance between them but even this, sitting on the same bench was unlike either of them. A year ago, they would have rather died than sit together, next to each other.

She found it amusing that Daphne was worrying about him _transmitting _germs to Astoria because of her – it was absurd and unexplainably stupid.

"Not that it matters anyway," Malfoy continued, huffing. "Astoria won't even kiss me anymore. She's starting to believe the whole rumor shit. She's turning out to be just as dumb as Parkinson."

Hermione looked at him, her face twisting with disbelief. "Why is it always the girl's problem? Maybe you just turned out to be a bad kisser." She shot at him, her voice ringing with irritation.

The way Malfoy spoke about Astoria reminded her of how Ron spoke about her, the way he told her off – pointing out all her insecurities, all her wrongs, every single flaw, everything she hated about herself and things that she hadn't even noticed that she was doing.

"Please, Granger," he scoffed, his eyes rolling and then he smirked. "You should know better than anyone else that I am a _sex God_." He enunciated, winking at her.

Hermione scoffed back. "_Please, Malfoy. _How do you walk through doors with that ego of yours? Sideways, I presume." She retorted.

This only made his smirk extend on his awfully pale face, revealing a bright set of perfectly straight, white teeth. She imagined her parents would have been proud of those teeth, seeing they were well tended to but that was no surprise; if Malfoy wanted to, he could buy himself a million set of teeth.

"I imagine me walking back and forth is a far a more pleasant view."

She didn't answer him, dropping her head and let an inappropriate, hidden smile twitch on her lips.

The walls of the castle enclosed them, eerily casting a shadow so unfathomably large that it was hard to tell if it ever ended. There were smooth blankets of cold air in the azure sky, where the clouds had painted themselves across it. A feeling washed over her as she raised her head again and an involuntary sigh escaped her lips.

"That night, when you gave me this – " She had begun to say, trailing off as she pointed at the jacket that was hugging her warmly. "I broke up with Ron and he said –" She paused once more, turning to face him. "He said you were right, all these years. He screamed, clarified to me all my flaws, even ones I wasn't aware were there and then, he said, '_Well fuck, 'Mione, Malfoy was right. You are the most vexing fucking female on the planet.' _And that night when I went to the party and you gave me this jacket, I really questioned whether you were right."

Malfoy, for once, was actually speechless.

There was no rude commentary or remarks, not even a swear word came out of his parted lips.

"Just fucking great," a bitter female voice interrupted.

Ginny stood a few feet away from him, her eyes glittering treacherously.

Hermione was going to stand up and leave, not wanting to give Ginny more reason to believe the rumors but Malfoy draped his arm around her shoulder and held her down. His fingers brushed down her hair and he nuzzled his nose into her neck, making her squirm.

"Will you two get a fucking room?" She said shrilly, glaring as she walked up to them, her arms crossed across her chest.

Malfoy removed his face from Hermione and looked up to Ginny, plastering a perfectly fake surprise face. "Didn't notice you there, Red. Mind leaving us alone, we were kind of in the middle of something." He cooed.

Hermione shifted in her seat, uncomfortable but she didn't do anything more to leave.

Ginny's face flushed and her hands clenched into fists. Seething with anger, she approached the two menacingly.

"You both are absolutely disgusting. Especially you Hermione – god – how could you…with him," she fumed, stabbing her finger in Malfoy's direction. "Please don't tell me you've forgotten the way he treated you all these years. Don't tell me that was all foreplay? That you liked all that. I'm sure it makes for good after sex talk."

Hermione couldn't believe the words that were booming in her ears, words that had come out of Ginny's mouth. She knew that Ginny was upset, enraged that the rumors were going around, that they were possibly true and Hermione could forgive Ginny for believing the rumors but for lashing out at her, for saying those things, she couldn't even begin to wrap herself around how those words were hurting her.

Malfoy shook his head. "Look, Red, I know you're not like Scarhead and Weasel. You're actually smart, I mean, you're Head Girl and Zabini won't shut up about you but listen to me and listen well – _Hermione _here is much fucking smarter than you. She's got a blooming personality, she's fucking gorgeous and if I start on how good she is in bed, I'd never shut up." His voice was as cold as death.

It was as if everything around Hermione had shut down entirely and she just stared at Malfoy, stupefied on the bench, her whole body weighed down on the seat. It didn't even matter if he didn't mean a fucking word he just said; he had just defended her.

Ginny just murmured, 'piss off' and walked off.

"That was…" Hermione whispered.

"She deserved it."

Hermione smiled at him and she placed a hand on his knee – she expected him to jerk it away but he didn't and she left it there.

"_We wear the mask that grins and lies,_

_It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, - _

_This debt we pay to human guile; _

_With torn and bleeding heart we smile,_

_And mouth with myriad subtleties._

_Why should the world be over-wise,_

_In counting all our tears and sighs?_

_Nay, let them only see us, while_

_We wear the mask." _She recited, squinting her eyes and she tried hard to make sure she got the poem right. She didn't really know poems but this one her grandmother had frequently repeated to her when she was younger and she had fallen in love with it back then. When Malfoy started with poems, she urged to find the poem again.

Malfoy looked a tad impressed with her and he covered it up with the coolness of his face but it was in his eyes, most of his emotions could be read from his grey orbs.

Hermione nudged him in the shoulder with her own shoulder and he chuckled.

There was silence around them and like she now did habitually, she noticed him, again – there was a peculiar ache in her chest as the smile softened on his face, watched the familiar, scowling lines of his face fade away slowly, kindly; Malfoy was attractive, she realized, the arresting symmetry of his features caught her eye.

He was smiling at her, with her.

He was smiling.

He was smiling and she was ruined.

Ginny breathed, shaking her head and she thought about the things Malfoy said about Hermione. It had made her angry, yes but then again, it also made her feel something else. They way he talked about, the things he said…

_Hermione's lucky…_she thought, slowing down her steps.

In spite of how Malfoy had treated her in the past seven years, he was being nice to her, he was well, in his own twisted way, taking care of her and _defending _her. It was sort of beautiful.

Shaking her head again, she put her fingers on her temples as if she were having a headache – how could she think that Malfoy and Hermione were beautiful? Their relationship was an atrocity. Malfoy was hateful and mean. No matter how he was in private with Hermione, they were still _wrong _to be together.

She threw a long strand of hair that fell into her eyes to the back, smoothing it down till she touched the rubber band and pulled down her ponytail, slinging it over her shoulder. She took out a small mirror pocket and looked at herself, checking her makeup, hair and teeth, needing to look absolutely perfect before she went to see Harry, who was waiting for her at her dormitory.

Ginny smiled shyly, looking down at her shoes. They were going to have their first time together. She was nervous, excited – a swirl of emotions drifted through her like air.

It, however, was not their _first time_, just their first time with _each other. _Ginny had lost her virginity to Dean, having countless, meaningless affairs of make up sex and it turned out, which Harry revealed soon after the beginning of their relationship, that he had sex with a muggle girl at a café a few times. She wasn't upset about it since they weren't together at the time and he had joked that he was afraid of dying a virgin.

Upon reaching her dormitory, she waved at Harry, who was leaning against a wall, tapping his wand on his thigh. He stood straight and smiled at her.

"Hey, I've been –" He was cut off by her chaste kiss.

She heard him tuck his wand into his pocket and his hand touches her waist.

Breaking off the kiss, Ginny takes Harry's hand and pulls him towards the dorm.

"Emered," she whispered the password, entering the room, never letting go of Harry's hand or his gaze.

She took him to the couch, pushing him down seductively. The baffled look on Harry's face made Ginny smile. She was far more experienced than him. She was well aware of how to please him; she knew exactly how to save their suffocating relationship.

Ginny stretches her legs, straddling Harry and his hand finds it place back on her waist. Her eyes instinctively slid closed and she leaned in, pressing her lips on his jaw. Her hand wandered around his shirt, unhurriedly playing with the buttons to remove it. He responds by tilting her head back and kissing down her neck. His hands were on her waist curves, comfortably resting there.

The moment blurs and Ginny is lost in the aroma of his honeysuckle smell, his face lost in the tendrils of her now loose hair as his mouth works against the side of her neck. His back is no longer pressed to the back of the sofa but inches away, trying to get as much of Ginny's body into his own.

Her hands climbed up to Harry's shoulder, curling her fingers into the collar of his shirt as she tugs him closer.

Harry proceeded to lift her shirt off, his hands finally touching her bare skin, causing a shiver to run through her system. An eruption concurred inside her as the shiver and the intensity of her emotions collided. She tried to get the same feeling from Harry, tried to feel the intensity radiate off him, feel it travel around in the atmosphere.

But it didn't.

It was too forced. It was too much on her part.

"Ginny," he sighed into her as his hands began to fall down to her waist, away from the clasp of her bra, which a moment ago he was keen to remove. "Wait."

_No. _She couldn't wait.

Ginny pressed herself down onto him, hitching her skirt further up around her waist and she swallowed his words in a quick kiss. She reached down, deliberately unbuckling his belt and unzipped his jeans.

His tongue drove itself into her mouth when her right hand moved inside and her fingers dragged along the length as she drew him out. She thought that would bring him back, that would make her want her more. She needed him to want her as much as she needed him.

_But do I need him?_

Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip and she was going to unclasp her bra with her left hand but Harry caught her hand.

It pained her to lose his lips against her own as he muttered, "Stop."

The sound of that word, spoken so pleadingly, made her aggressively kiss her and tangle her fingers in his hair. He moaned in her mouth, which confirmed to her that he wanted this, he wanted her but something else was creating a barrier between them.

Ginny continued to assault him with her kiss with a guttural groan.

He muttered something to her once more that she refused to acknowledge. She pushed him down onto the couch. Her hand left his arousal and wrapped around his neck, waiting, hoping for him to do something, for him to respond to her pleading desires.

"Ginny, stop!"

This was the point where Ginny finally took the warning. Removing herself from him, she sat down next to him on the couch. She felt so embarrassed. He didn't want this and he definitely didn't want her.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled unintelligently. "I didn't mean to yell."

He began to button up his shirt and buckle his jeans. She couldn't move – she could barely breathe. _Where did I go wrong? _She was so embarrassed. She just sat there on the couch, staring at her bare thighs, ashamed of her body. She felt the coolness on her stomach as she glanced at her blouse on the floor.

Her stomach clenched, tears stinging in her eyes and she could feel her brain pound against her head, furious with her for being so foolish. She thought sex could fix their relationship. She thought that was the answer. She thought maybe, just maybe, they would get their spark back again, that things would be okay again.

Harry looked at her, fully dressed now. He was going to touch her but she flinched when his hand got close and he decided not to.

"Look, Gin, I'm sorry about this." He shrugged, clearly not sorry. "I think you've known for a while now that it isn't the same anymore. We're not the same. It was nice at first, I loved you, once but Gin…" He trailed off and he didn't say anymore.

"What changed?" She croaked and the glistening tears pooled in her eyes, over flooding and flowing silently down her flushed cheeks. Hollow, she felt unbearably hollow.

Harry shrugged again, which lately had been his way of answering to everything she asked him. "I don't know Ginny. It just changed. I changed. It's me. It really is. I think it was the fear of never finding anyone, the fear of dying that drove me to you and it's not like that anymore. I want to experience more."

Ginny inhaled and bit the inside of her quivering lip. She clutched the edge of the sofa as an alternative of clutching her empty stomach. It felt like a boulder had dropped down into her.

"Harry." She cried. Her teeth chattered for a moment as she tried to contain herself, contain her tears and cries. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Her cheeks imploded into her mouth and she kept breathing shallowly to keep the tears inside.

"Yes." He replied, nonchalant.

Harry stood up from his seat, kissed her on the forehead awkwardly, his hand on the back of her hair. She was mortified by his touch and she would have reacted but it seemed there was no energy left for that.

"I'll um, see you later?" He murmured on his way out of her dormitory.

And when he left, when she was all-alone in her chaotic state, she completely lost it.

Pillows and books and parchment flew around the living room and she set herself down on the mess, lying on her back, still in her bra. She stared up at the ceiling, the tears rolling gently, coldly down her temples. She didn't make any noise as she cried. There were only tears and her shallow breathing. She didn't think of his words. She only thought of the reasons why she had tried to mend their already doomed relationship.

Their relationship was unreal from the start. She was just a mere distraction to Harry. While she had withheld her feelings for six years, he only even noticed her when she was with Dean – it was a doomed relationship out of jealously and loneliness and worst of all - fear. His fear of dying alone and unloved was the reason why he let her in and that was the worst because that meant his feelings meant nothing. He may have loved her but never in the way that Ginny loved.

Foolishly she tried to fix their relationship. Foolishly she put herself out short for a guy. Foolishly she tried to use sex as a way to get what she wanted.

Ginny picked her up her blouse and slid it on carelessly, not caring whether it was on the right way or wrong. She just needed to hide in her room for a while, away from people and life itself. She needed time to recover, needed time to move on.

**Hi. I might be a little slow with the next update but I will try to deliver as soon as I can. I hope you like the chapter and how it's going. Send me suggestions and what you think, that will be helpful because I'm not just doing this to entertain myself but because I genuinely love writing and if any one of you could tell what I can do to improve, that would be great. **

**ii-V-I****:****Draco's intentions and feelings will be soon revealed. **

**Review, please. Honestly, reviews are what drive me to write. It's a great motivator. Thank you for reading. **


	7. VII

**Wow. a) I would like to apologize for the lack of updates. Tbh, I was lazy or to phrase it nicely, 'lack of inspiration'. I will try to update more frequently though. **

_**"Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong." - Sarah Dessen**_

* * *

She had heard the incessant knocking on her door, which was always followed with her name being called out. She chose, believing truly with her broken heart that it was the best thing to do. That if she ignored the problem, the problem would go away. It was a temporary solution but a solution nonetheless.

"Red, I swear to fucking Merlin, if you don't open this door, I don't care if you're butt-naked and it completely disrupts the privacy policy, I will slam the door down," Blaise yelled from outside.

"Go ahead," she murmured to herself, hiccupping. She turned her heard to the side, closing one eye and looked at the empty whiskey bottle that lay beside her. "Shame."

Ginny spent the night in her room, attempting to sleep but her mind refused, wouldn't allow her to sleep at all. She even woke up at one point and took a shower, cleansing herself of the shame she felt, shedding herself of the memories. Then she couldn't put herself to sleep again. The shower and the memories were far too awakening. She stayed up and since she found absolutely no point in going back to bed again, she decided to take out her secret stash of whiskey. She drank till there was nothing but air in the bottle.

It wasn't the kind of behavior that a Head Girl should have but it didn't matter. She didn't care. She couldn't care. Her body didn't have the energy to care.

She wasn't angry with Harry – no – she was angry with herself. She was angry that she had to save their relationship with sex, she was angry that she was so blinded by love that she couldn't see that they had failed, that they didn't love, they he didn't love her, she was so careless and stupid. She was angry with herself for that.

"That's it." Blaise cried and Ginny's eyes rolled skyward, trying to get a look at the door.

There was a click, unlocking the door and entered the dark, handsome Italian and his eyes wandered around the mess before sympathetically looking down at Ginny, who lay flat on the floor in her robe.

He came over and bent down.

"What happened last night, Red?" He asked, brushing his finger along her hairline.

"Mm, you're so pretty, Blaise," murmured Ginny, drunkenly, fluttering her eyelashes.

Blaise looked taken aback. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He muttered under his breath.

He tucked his arm under Ginny's knees and put the other one under her back, lifting her up bridal style. She pressed her soft hair against his hard chest, comfortably closing her eyes.

For a moment, she felt tired.

For a moment, she felt she could sleep.

And in that moment, she had never felt safer, in Blaise's arms as he sat her down on the bed. His arm was still wrapped around her shoulder to keep her from falling. He levitated the glass from her bedside table and took out his wand. He uttered a spell at it and a colorless liquid filled it up.

Blaise handed it to her and she stared at it. Her face contorted suspiciously. "Drink it," ordered Blaise.

She shook her hand and pushed the glass away from her, spilling a few drops onto Blaise's hand.

"For fuck's sake Ginny! You're Head Girl and you're more drunk than I am at Slytherin parties." His brows knitted angrily. "Now just take the damn thing and drink it."

The tone in his voice told her, shook it to her very bones that he wasn't going to take no as an answer. She yanked the glass out of his hand and drank every last drop. She handed the glass to Blaise, smiling tightly.

He smiled back, much nicer than Ginny had, and said, "Thank you."

He still held her shoulders, keeping her straight and sitting on the bed, even though she could feel the sobering liquid take it's effect on her. Her mind was clearing up and she became far more aware of the situation the universe had placed her in.

She was on her bed, with Blaise Zabini, wearing nothing but her robe and there was only a small distance between them. She wasn't drunk anymore. No, she wasn't at all drunk. She was very sober.

And yet, her lips impulsively pressed against his – she felt something unbelievably strong course through her body, causing her to shake. Her breath quickened. His lips were soft, yielding and his fingers wove in her hair, pulling her closer. She could have sat there forever, in that perfect moment. It didn't matter if her lungs were aching to be filled with air; she just needed to keep kissing him, up until the moment when he pulled away.

"Ginny," he murmured, breathlessly.

He looked at her, not guiltily. He wanted to kiss her too, she knew it and this wasn't another misunderstanding like Harry. She could feel the tension between them. He liked her and well, what wasn't to like about him?

"You're still drunk." He was disappointed. He thought she was still drunk. _No. _"Just get ready. We have to go down, like now."

Then Blaise walked away, leaving her on her bed.

Ginny thought she would feel disappointed or even ashamed to have been pushed away twice by two different guys in less than twelve hours but no. That kiss with Blaise – it was enchanting, it took her breath away, floated her to cloud nine. He kissed her back, which meant he wanted her too and he was disappointed to think that it wasn't real. He wanted her and she wanted him too, a little.

She got off the bed, tucking a strand of her straight hair behind her ear and her mind thought endlessly about the kiss. It possessed her through the shower, as she dressed and as she sat at the dressing table, dabbing some concealer along under her eyes to cover up the darkness and any evidence of lack of sleep. She picked up her bag from the floor and headed downstairs, where Blaise was waiting by the door for her.

Smiling lightly at him, they walked to the Great Hall, conversation-less.

The kiss had been enough to drift her mind away through getting out of bed and getting to the Great Hall but as she stopped at the doors, where chattering students sat at their house tables, eating and talking, she realized that she didn't have anywhere to sit anymore. She definitely couldn't sit with Harry and Ron as she did before. She couldn't be anywhere near Harry at this point.

"Red." A hand held her arm. She didn't look away from where she would normally sit, focusing solely on Harry and Ron. He seemed so unmoved by the events of last night – he was laughing, joking around with Ron and Neville. How could he do that? How could he just pretend as if nothing, absolutely nothing happened last night?

Blaise moved her, dragging her to the end of the Slytherin table. "Sit with me," he told her as he sat her down and seated himself next to her.

Eyes watched as Ginny, Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend, sat at the Slytherin table with Blaise. It was obvious what they were thinking – if she wasn't the one in the situation, she'd be whispering about it with her friends as well. She'd gossip about how Potter's girl and he broke up because she was probably screwing around with Blaise. A Head Boy and Head Girl affair.

Blaise didn't seem to care though. He put bread on her plate and an apple. Pouring some orange juice for her. He didn't care about the tens of dozens of eyes, and in the counting that were staring at them. He didn't care that Malfoy was arching his eyebrow and glancing over at them suspiciously. He didn't even care that Ron looked like he was about to commit mass murder on the entire Slytherin table just to remove his sister from there.

_And you shouldn't either. _She thought.

_Exactly. _She shouldn't care whether these people were staring and thinking the same, dull and moronic thought.

Ginny bit her apple and smirked at Blaise, murmuring a simple, "Thank you." He responded by poking her in the cheek, which he did frequently, and continued to eat as well.

* * *

Unmoved by the silent whispers that spun around her, like a delicate and intricate spider web – a thread of lies that hung to each other and she was the prey, stuck to the center, holding the threads together. Keep your head up and don't care.

Hermione rushed into the Great Hall, deliberately late for breakfast. She wanted to avoid Parvati and Lena in the morning and throughout most of the day. She wanted an empty bathroom for her thoughts to erupt, an empty common room for the pep talk she needed to give herself and an empty hallway to conjure up some confidence from her seemingly frail body.

There were sneaky glances, eyes that were consumed by something utterly intriguing but it wasn't her. Something else had caught their attention. Oddly, she looked for it; she looked around, followed the eyes and found the source of their new bait. _Ginny. _

Ginny was sitting at the Slytherin table, with Blaise Zabini. She looked over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, finding that they were taken back by Ginny's new seating arrangement but weren't doing anything. That rose new issues for Hermione.

Parvati and Lena were still not on speaking terms with her and they hadn't left her the normal sympathetic spot. The only free space at the Gryffindor table was next to Harry, in front of Ron - a space that she had filled, many, many moons ago.

She thought about walking out, leaving cowardly from what she knew she had to face. The memories, the conversations, the laughter, the sorrow – it all flowed back into her as her feet moved towards the space. She didn't even look anywhere else. Hugging the book against her chest tightly, she walked timidly and bravely to the table and sat down. It was like defying gravity – social norms and the talks of people held her in a place where she wasn't allowed to talk to Harry and Ron, let alone sit with them at the Gryffindor table. She was breaking the rules made by mindless teenage wizards and witches.

Ron gawked up at Hermione, along with other eyes that she didn't find as familiar. Neville stopped with his porridge half way to his mouth and Luna smiled politely. Harry greeted her in a subtle yet surprised tone.

"Hello, Hermione."

"Harry," she said shortly.

She didn't bother to carry on with the conversation, grabbing a slice of toasted bread and scooping up some scrambled eggs onto her plate. She was going to keep her breakfast short. She didn't need to sit there any longer than she already had.

There was still tension around them but it was easing up on her. The eyes were still staring, voices whispering, ears listening but it didn't affect her anymore. She had grown used to it. She was starting to feel back at place, she was staring to feel comfortable.

"Harry, I can't sit here anymore," stated Ron, brows bumped together in a scowl.

"And why not?" Harry asked, still keeping a cool and collective tone intact.

"Because of this _whore." _His eyes flashed towards Hermione.

At this point, she stopped eating her scrambled eggs and placed her fork down neatly.

Rolling her eyes skyward and looking at Ron with narrowed eyes, she began quietly. "Ronald, it's hardly appropriate to leave the table, complaining to daddy about the kid who keeps kicking your balls. You have only to endure me for ten minutes and if you can't do that, may I remind you of the six years I put up you?" She asked rhetorically. "Or should I just save our time and tell you of the six months for which we dated? The fumbling hands, the sloppy words, the bad breath, the constant eating all the time, I stuck around because well, I was trying to be polite – so I think you need to stop being such an _attention whore _and sit your ass down."

Anyone around them froze in time – it didn't matter how uncomfortable the position may have been but they stopped whatever they were doing and stared at Hermione and Ron.

She just thought Ron was being immature – standing up and trying to leave the table simply because his ex-girlfriend was sitting in front of him. She wasn't even going to do anything to him. He just couldn't stand her presence. For heaven's sake, they were all adults or at least _some _of them were.

After a few long minutes, Ron finally sat down and huffed, looking away from Hermione. He didn't bother to look up from his food until Hermione packed up her things and began to leave.

"Thank you, Ronald, for enduring my presence," she spat viciously and turned on her heels, raging out of the Great Hall.

Her strong and confident persona left everyone in awe. For the past three months she'd been cowering in a corner of the Gryffindor table and pass one day with Malfoy defending her and all her encompassing strength flowed back into her, like water into an ocean – calm yet powerful.

First free period she got, she was racing to the library. She decided not to go to her corner of the library but instead, back to the Restricted Section. She assumed – _almost hoped _– that Malfoy would be there and assuming correctly – _obviously _– he was there.

"Granger," Malfoy greeted her. Normally when he said her last name it was icy and unfriendly, creating an awful barrier between them that separated layers of atmosphere but this time, it was friendly and pleasant and that barrier was shattered by his soft voice saying her name.

"Malfoy."

She sat down and took out one of her books. She would do her homework and he would do his. They wouldn't speak, not for a while. They would occasionally glance up at each other and she might smile or he might smirk but there would be no words. The silence was enough and for anyone who passed the Restricted Section, the silence was screaming at them.

Gryffindor Princess and Slytherin Prince were sitting at the same table, quietly and peacefully doing homework, together, without slitting each other's throats. A miracle – completely impossible and yet there they were. Together.

Eventually Malfoy spoke up, nearly done with his Ancient Runes homework. "I heard that little scolding you gave Weasel and may I say, Granger, you took my breath away," he complimented, glancing away from his book for only a while to catch her reaction.

Hermione breathily laughed and set down her quill. "He didn't want to sit next to me because he thought I wasn't _worthy _enough." She rolled her eyes skyward and leaned in. "What utter bullshit. That boy is honestly sometimes so full of himself and he thinks _I'm not worthy._"

"And he's such a waste of space right now to me. All he does is hang around Harry, eat and doesn't study. The Weasleys aren't a bad family but this Weasel is a fucking disgrace to that entire family." She continued, speaking with full feistiness and anger. She didn't actually think Ron was a waste of space but she was filled with so much anger right now that she just couldn't help herself from saying it all.

"Ouch," Malfoy replied. He closed his book and leaned back in his chair. "You know, I think I could learn to live with this Hermione sitting in front of me."

Hermione smiled.

It had completely passed them both that Malfoy had said Hermione for the first time. It sounded so natural, so perfectly natural that it was unnoticeable. He probably didn't even know that he had used her first name.

Without a comment, she continued smiling and picked up her quill, finishing off her homework while Draco scribbled on pieces of parchment. There was silence between them, unspoken words and it was sort of right that way.

* * *

**And another chapter has been complete. **

**Per usual, review please and thank you for reading. Chapter 8 will be up as soon as possible. Patience is a virtue darlings. **


	8. VIII

**Ahah, see. I have updated. Keeping up to my word this time. **

_**"I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below." - Ashly Lorenzana **_

* * *

This physically aching happiness overwhelmed her as she sneakily skipped through the darkened, empty halls, making her way to the lake. She was going there to meet Draco. It was strange saying his name but they had been on a first name basis for a while now. They did, however, say each other's last name once in a while. It had been a habit for the past seven years and old habits die hard, _right?_

They were open about their new friendship. Everyone knew but they all still assumed it was a relationship. It wasn't anything like they thought. It wasn't even anything like she thought it would be with him. They talked, mostly about poetry and their past relationships.

He told her about how Pansy was – clingy but still sweet. She did care about him and love him but he didn't feel the same. To him, it was just meaningless sex but it had meant something to her. Hermione had called him a dick for being so cold to her but it wasn't actually like that. He was nice to her, when they were alone. He never forced her into doing anything she didn't want to do but it wasn't like she was ever going to say no.

Then he told her about his new fling with Astoria, which was also meaningless but not as meaningless as Pansy. He cared about Astoria and loved her too, but not the same way Astoria loved him.

He would recite poems for her and they would analyze them, putting two of the smartest brains together and taking out the craziest meanings between the lines of poems. It was fun and it made her happy. She was happy when she was around him. She was happier around him in a few hours than she was in the past four months. It was oddly strange to believe that she was happier around Draco Malfoy – a boy who had tormented and ridiculed her for seven years – than she normally ever was.

A subtle smile played on her lips and she tried hiding it, denying the fact that she would smile in the lightest way while thinking about Draco. It was unreal.

Hermione was about to make a turn in the hallway when she heard a soft cry echoing. She was afraid to make the turn. She would still get into trouble for being out of bed at this hour but the sound of the cry touched her heart, grasped at it and forced her to move out of the dark shadows.

Ginny was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the wall, sobbing. Her hair was in disarray and her face was flushed.

"Ginny?" Hermione called out, walking up to her.

Looking away from her hands, Ginny's wounded eyes looked at her. Her features had fallen – she didn't look like the same person Hermione had once known.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to her.

"Leave me alone," Ginny responded icily, looking the other way.

"No. Tell me why you're crying."

Ginny didn't say anything but she didn't push Hermione away either so she sat there until Ginny was ready to talk. Hermione had noticed that Ginny's behavior had changed recently. She no longer sat at the dining table with Ron and Harry but instead with Blaise – at first Hermione had figured that the Heads had a lot of work to do but then she noticed how Ginny avoided Harry and Ron all together. They no longer sat together in class or hung out around school. Ginny had a look on her face, a look that Hermione was all too acquainted with – the look of betrayal and utter disappointment.

"Ginny," Hermione began, placing her hand on Ginny's. "Is everything alright with you and Harry?"

She could feel Ginny's tense muscles relax; her shoulders slouched down and she dropped her eyes to the floor before turning to look at Hermione.

Ginny's lips trembled, the tears in her eyes were on the brink of falling and she uttered quietly, barely even a whisper, and "Harry broke up with me."

Then just like that, Hermione found herself hugging Ginny and holding her in comfort. She forgot how Ginny had treated her, how when she was in a similar situation, Ginny wasn't there for her. She forgot the things Ginny had said to her, said about her. She forgot everything. She only remembered that Ginny was her friend, her best friend and that she needed to hold her and tell her that it was going to be okay.

"What happened Gin?" Hermione asked, smoothing down Ginny's hair.

Ginny told her everything that had happened between her and Harry since the start of the school year. They were distant and he was pulling away. She tried to fix things but it had been damaged to a point where fixing wasn't an option.

"But that's not why I'm here." Ginny sobbed, pushing her hair back and looking forward. "I'm here, crying my heart because we broke up a week ago and he's apparently going to Hogsmeade with Cho." She let out a breathy cry and sniffled.

Brows knitted in a frown, Hermione took Ginny's hand and said to her, "Well screw him then." Ginny looked taken back by Hermione's words. "Ginny, you deserve better. Yeah, sure, Harry's a great guy but he's not a great guy for you. Ginevra Weasely, you are smart, you are funny, you've got an amazing personality and you are beyond gorgeous."

Saying those things to Ginny reminded her of how Malfoy had defended her a few days ago. That secretive, hidden smile appeared and disappeared within seconds. She couldn't smile every time she thought about him. She had to stop that.

Ginny slowly lifted herself up and Hermione followed. They stood together and Ginny smiled, weakly but it was still a genuine smile.

"Thank you 'Mione," she said, hugging her once more.

"What're friends for?" Hermione replied, choosing her words a bit unwisely. Ginny and Hermione weren't really friends anymore. She expected Ginny to point that out but she didn't.

Instead, Ginny smiled and said, "I'll see you around then," before walking away in the opposite direction.

Hermione looked back at her red head friend who was walking away and for a moment, it felt like there was a greater chance for things to be alright between them. The conversation they just had was a sign, a symbol of minute hope that their friendship could be repaired.

Smiling, Hermione continued to walk to the lake, seeing as she was already late to meet Draco.

Once she got there, she found Draco leaning against the tree, staring out at the lake with a serious look on his face. She waved at him frantically as she skidded down the wet grass.

"Hey there," she murmured, catching her breath.

"You certainly took your time," greeted Draco. He stepped away from the tree and the moonlight shone on his pale face, exposing his perfect jawline and facial features that she couldn't help but find herself gazing at occasionally.

"Yeah," Hermione started, pointing back at the castle. "I met Ginny on my way here. She was upset and I needed to be there for her. I think things are going to be okay again." She smiled brightly, her eyes glistening and she wanted to express all the joy she was feeling on her face.

A sullen expression took form on Draco's face. He jutted his jaw and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Oh," was all he said to her.

Hermione was standing in front of him, beyond ecstatic that she was possibly reconciling with her best friend and she wanted to share that moment with Draco and all he could say was 'oh'.

"That doesn't sound like a very pleasant 'oh'," Hermione pointed out, stepping back and away from him.

He didn't say anything but his face etched with discontent.

With all her wits, smarts and book-knowledge, she couldn't understand the look on his face. She couldn't even begin to put together the reasons why his expression would take a turn like that. She couldn't form thoughts to explain why he would look at her like that, why he would care enough to be disappointed.

"Well?" She asked, looking at his impatiently.

"Nothing," he murmured and shifted his eyes away from her face. "We should get back to the castle. It's already too late." Malfoy began to walk away but Hermione stepped in front of him and stabbed her finger at his chest.

Hermione shook her head, her bouncy curls swaying from side to side. "No, not until you tell me what's wrong."

Malfoy blinked several times, his eyes exploring the new found anger and impatience that painted her face along with the concealed – but not so well – care of what he thought. She was almost upset that he was looking at her like that. It was an expression that she was unfamiliar to, especially with Malfoy. He was always so collected and cool and it was a rare, precious moment where he had let his feelings show carelessly.

With derision swarming in the tone of voice, he spat, "For the brightest witch of our age, you're pretty daft when it comes to common sense aren't you?"

And all that was him in the past seven years stormed back into him and the wind blew against their faces, brushing her hair against her cheek and letting the white blond hair fall into his eyes, covering them and disguising all his true feelings.

In the moment she detested him. What was he even saying? _What was he trying to say? _

"Still don't get it eh, Granger?" His voice pierced through her and she couldn't help but let her lips quiver with the same disappointment. What had happened to him? He was being so nice to her lately and now he was being the same asshole he was in the past seven years. _Why? _"Red, Weasel-bee and Scarface have been complete dickheads to you and you are so blind as to have _one _conversation with one of them and go running back to them – Jesus Hermione. Do you really think that low of yourself?"

_No I don't, _she thought. Her wildly vacillating emotions coursing through her veins, urging to spit out of her mouth but it was sewn shut and she couldn't dare herself to utter a single word to him. She just let him go on and she didn't even know why.

"You don't see how amazing you are or how beautiful or how smart. You don't see any of that because you let people like them stomp all over that radiance that you're always covering up." He continued, placing his hands on her shoulder. "For fuck sake Granger, look at yourself in the mirror and be stronger than that to go back to people who treated you like shit."

That was enough for her.

"Those people were there for me when _you _treated me like shit!" She exclaimed, shaking his rough hands off her shoulder, stepping back. She thought she would lose balance; this dizzying feeling overwhelmed her and the words vomited out of her. "You were awful to me – I mean, I spent most of my second year crying because of how vile you were and now, I sneak out of bed every night just so I can come and have a chat with you."

She placed her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, collecting herself. She pushed her hair back and clutched it tightly from the back. She opened her eyes, staring at him with fury blazing through her chocolate orbs. "You don't get to talk about them treating me like shit, _Malfoy. _Just because you've forgotten how much of a _terrible _person you can be doesn't mean I'm going to do –"

And he came up to her far too abruptly. She didn't have time to breathe. She didn't have time to finish her sentence. She didn't have time to just stop him from capturing her lips in his, crushing them furiously. He wasn't soft like he was in the day at the library. It's like he didn't care anymore; he just wanted a way to express his anger towards her.

His thumbs roughly stroked her cheeks and she pressed her small hands against his shoulder blades, applying a decent amount of force to push him away but what use was that? He was bigger than her, stronger than her and in all honesty, as much as she wanted to push away, she wanted to keep kissing him but not in these circumstances. Not after the things he had said to her.

She removed her hand from his shoulder blade and lifted it, swinging it towards his cheek, slapping him off her face. He tumbled a little, losing his balance. He touched his own cheek, feeling the redness blossom slowly.

"The fuck was that!" He growled. Infuriated with her, the hatred that she was once all too familiar with glared at her.

"You don't get to kiss after the things you said," she told him, shaking her head.

Hermione turned around while she still had some control over her out of control emotions. She began to walk, trudging her feet on the grass, ignoring Malfoy's repulsive curses at her.

She kept walking, her mind blank all up until she reached the hallway where she had found Ginny. She couldn't walk anymore.

_Collapse. _

She sat on the floor, pulling her knees up to her chin, resting it there and just staring out in the darkness. She looked like one of those really depressing girls from those movies, where her heart is broken and then she can only just sit in some dark corner.

_Heart broken? By Malfoy? _

No. She wasn't that weak. She wasn't that easily manipulated. Malfoy was not someone she could love. Malfoy was not someone that could love her. She couldn't, _wouldn't _let her heart get broken by Malfoy. She was better than that.

_Are you? _

Clutching the hem of her skirt, she drew in a deep breath, slightly gasping. It was a sob. She was crying; tears slowly forming in her eyes and streaming down her blushing cheeks. The hairs on the nape of her neck rose and her lips quivered.

_Collapse. _

She wished that Ginny would return and hold her. She wished she was in Ginny's place. She wished someone, anyone would just come and tell her that everything was going to be okay. She wanted someone to say those things that she had said to Ginny.

_Oh but Malfoy said those things to you. In a harsher way. _

_No._

The things Malfoy said to her didn't matter. He was still the same. People don't change. She should know that. He was right. She lacked common sense. She may have been the smartest witch of her age. She may be a little miss know it all. She may be good at everything but when it came to people, relationships and common sense, there was no doubt that she was pretty shit at it.

She had collapsed. After months, weeks, days, hours of bliss, of happiness, she had collapsed. Slowly, painfully – a moment of weakness, a moment to dread. All because of Draco.

_Collapse._

* * *

**I don't know why I keep doing this to you guys. I've give you a happy moment and a bad moment and it's all very confusing but please, please just put up with me for a little while longer. I promise that it will be worth it, it honestly, truly will. _(At least I hope it will). _I won't be cruel for long. **

**Please review and thank you for reading. **


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